PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

Headley,  Joel  Tyler, 
^  Thf  life  of  Oliver  CromweUl 


S'CC. 


iir  \'Lii>i''^ 


7  . 


Jt 


tyyi-^^ 


ff 


OLIVER  CROMWELL 


m/ 


r:AKER&  SCPlEEITEE.. 


THE  LIFE 


OP 


OLIVER   CROMWELL. 


J.    T.    HEADLEY, 


AUTHOB    or   "napoleon  and    his    marshals,'"    "the    sacred    MOUNTAIW*/ 

"WASHINGTON    AND     HIS     GENERALS,"     ETC..    ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 
CHARLES     SCRIBNER, 

36  PARK  ROW  AND  145  NASSAU    STREET 

1851. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1848,  by 

BAKER  AND   SCRIBXER, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


C.   W.  BENEDICT, 

Stereotyper  and  Printer, 

11  Spruce  street. 


TO 

REV.  J.  0.  CHODIES,  D.D. 

AS  ONE  WHO  HAS  DONE  MORE    THAN  ANY  OTHER  TO    SPREAD  IN 

OUR     COUNTRY     RIGHT    VIEWS    OF     THE    CHARACTER    OF 

CROMWELL  AND  THE  PURITANS,  AND  AS  A  TOKEN  OF 

HIGH  PERSONAL  ESTEEM  AND   REGARD,    THIS 

WORK  IS  RESPECTFULLY  INSCRIBED  BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Some  may  think  that  Carlyle's  ''Letters  and  Speeches 
of  Cromwell"  render  a  life  of  him  unnecessary,  while, 
in  fact,  that  work  was  the  only  cause  of  my  writing 
this.  A  multitude  of  biographies  have  been  written  of  Crom- 
well, but  not  one  based  on  the  general  view  taken  by  Carlyle. 
The  letters  and  speeches  of  a  man  can  never  constitute  his 
biograph}^  though  they  may  give  us  a  correct  and  complete 
idea  of  his  character.  The  letters  and  speeches  of  Washing- 
ton, and  his  hfe,  are  two  very  different  works.  In  the  first 
place,  the  narrative  is  broken  up  by  the  introduction  of 
letters  and  documents  on  various  subjects,  that  must  be 
placed  in  chronological  order.  In  the  second  place,  events 
are  mere  links,  by  which  these  are  connected ;  while  in 
biography,  they  are  the  writer's  chief  concern.  In  one 
case,  the  writings  of  a  man  form  the  burden  of  a  book; 
in  the  other,  his  actions.  The  compiler  of  the  former 
cannot  condense,  while  it  is  the  chief  business  of  the  his- 
torian of   the  latter  to  do  so.     Carlyle  should,   doubtless, 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION. 

have  written  tlie  life  of  Cromwell,  and  it  was  generally 
expected  of  him  ;  but  he  declined  doing  it,  saying,  that  he 
left  that  work  to  others. 

The  second  motive  that  prompted  me  to  the  undertaking, 
was,  that  no  American  had  ever  yet  given  the  world  a  biog- 
raphy of  this  wonderful  man.  Writers,  under  almost  every 
monarchical  government  of  Europe,  have  maligned  him, 
and  it  seems  strange  that  the  only  pure  republic  in  the 
world — a  republic,  too,  based  on  his  views,  and  traceable  to  his 
efforts,  should  hitherto  have  allowed  the  character  of  its  first 
founder  to  be  portrayed  alone  by  enemies  both  to  him  and 
to  liberty.  Puritanism  and  republicanism  have  always  been, 
in  England,  synonymous  with  hypocrisy  and  rebellion,  and 
hence,  her  writers  can  find  scarcely  a  redeemable  trait  in 
Cromwell's  character.  But  ive  regard  them  in  a  very  differ- 
ent light — indeed,  are  the  only  people  whose  institutions  are 
grounded  in  them ;  and  yet,  we  permit  the  very  man  who 
established  both,  to  be  insulted  and  traduced,  without 
saying  a  word  in  his  defence.  It  is  high  time  republican 
movements  in  Europe  had  other  historians  besides  the  sub- 
jects of  monarchical  governments.  But  for  Cromwell's 
efforts  and  success,  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  the  Pmitans 
on  this  side  of  the  water  would  have  ventured  on  a  contest 
with  the  mother  country — at  all  events,  the  great  questions 
of  constitutional  and  personal  liberty,  which  he  settled,  have 


INTRODUCTION.  IX 

been  the  foundation  of  every  revolution  for  the  emanci- 
pation of  man,  which  has  since  taken  place.  That  as  an 
American,  I  should  wish  to  defend  the  founder  of  the  first 
true  commonwealth,  and  expose  the  slanders  that  have  been 
heaped  upon  him,  is  most  natural. 

I  have  endeavored  to  give,  in  connection  with  his  life,  a 
condensed  history  of  the  English  revolution,  from  its  com- 
mencement to  its  close.  I  could  have  written  two  volumes 
more  easily  than  one ;  for  the  labor  of  condensing  has  been 
greater  than  a  freer  and  more  natural  narrative  wouH  have 
been.  The  English  biographies  are  taken  up  too  much 
with  minor  events,  for  readers  this  side  of  the  water;  and 
are  interesting  solely  to  Englishmen.  I  have  attempted  to 
give  the  leading  and  striking  features,  and  at  the  same  time 
make  clear  and  plain  every  step  of  the  revolutionary  move- 
ment. It  was  impossible,  of  course,  in  such  a  work,  to  go 
into  a  minute  history  of  the  civil  government,  or  of  religious 
sects — these  questions  belonging  to  the  historian  rather  than- 
to  the  biographer. 

That  there  is  room  enough  for  difference  of  opinion  re- 
specting historical  facts,  I  am  well  aware ;  for  there  proba- 
bly 'never  was  a  period  about  which  writers  disagree  so 
entirely.  Authority  for  almost  any  statement,  however 
ridiculous,  can  be  found.  Amid  the  endless  contradic- 
tions,   tlierefore,    which     met    me    at   every    step,    T    was 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

compelled  to  use  my  own  judgment  :  this,  I  need  not  say, 
has  ever  leaned  towards  Crom%Yell,  and  against  those  who 
had  every  motive  to  traduce  him,  and  every  temptation  to 
be  prejudiced.  I  mention  this,  that  those  who  have  studied 
the  subject  less,  may  not  be  surprised  to  find  many  of  my 
statements  rebutted  by  very  good  testimony.  As  no  two 
£Jnglish  authorities  agree,  it  is  not  to  he  expected  that  I  can 
agree  with  all. 

It  is  a  very  easy  matter  to  deny  historical  facts,  and  find 
some  proof  for  the  assertion  of  incoiTectness.  One  has  but 
to  cast  his  eye  over  our  Mexican  war,  to  see  how  difficult 
it  is  to  get  at  the  truth,  and  how  diametrically  opposite  is 
even  the  testimony  of  eye-witnesses.  Friends  and  foes 
never  give  the  same  account  of  a  matter.  Many  criticisms 
of  this  kind  have  been  passed  on  my  Napoleon  and  Wash- 
ington, and  yet  it  is  a  curious  faet,  that  in  every  instance 
which  has  come  under  my  notice,  the  critic  has  selected 
events  about  which  there  never  has  been,  to  my  knowledge, 
any  controversy  among  historians,  and  x*'^^^^'^^  ^V  mooted 
points,  on  which  a  strong  case  might  have  been  made  out. 

Such  is  the  difference  between  reading  history  for  amuse- 
ment and  instruction,  and  studying  it,  with  a  view  solely  to 
its  correctness. 

1  have  had  no  religious  creed  to  estabhsh  in  this  work ; 
and,  hence,  have  avoided  discussing   the   claims  of  Puritan- 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

ism  and  Episcopacy.  I  regard  the  struggle  as  one  of  civil 
and  religious  liberty,  and  not  a  contest  about  creeds. 
The  latter,  it  is  true,  occupied  a  prominent  part  in  the 
English  revolution ;  but  it  was  between  those  who  were 
equally  bigoted,  and  had,  finally,  to  be  overthrown. 
Episcopacy  was  no  more  intolerant  than  Presbyterian- 
ism — they  both  loved  temporal  power,  and  abused  it,  and 
were  both  opposed  to  Cromwell.  It  is  sad  to  find  Ameri- 
cans so  wedded  to  creeds,  that  they  can  forget  entirely 
the  great  question  of  liberty,  which  lay  at  the  bottom  of 
the  Pmitan  struggle,  and  think  only  of  the  contests 
respecting  church  government.  It  is  sadder  yet  to  find 
them  so  faithless  to  the  principles  of  the  republic  under 
which  they  live — so  recreant  to  their  patriotic  sires,  as  to  de- 
fend the  course  of  Laud  and  Charles  I.  When  a  man's 
bigotry  makes  him  slander  the  land  of  his  birth,  he  has 
passed  beyond  the  bounds  of  argument.  Episcopalians,  and 
Presbyterians  were  both  intolerant,  and  both  went  down  ;  but 
th.e  principles  and  virtues  of  the  two  churches — these  could  not 
be  effected  by  outward  circumstances,  and  rose  again  to  life 
and  action.  Against  the  doctrines  of  neither  have  I  any- 
thing to  say ;  but  against  the  op)pressions  of  both,  much ; 
especially  the  latter. 

In  quoting  from  letters,  I  have  invariably  extracted  from 
Carlyle's  collection,  because  he  has  modernized  the  spelling 


Xll  INTRODUCTION. 

and  pointing,  and  thus  made  Tnem  more  intelligible.^  1  have 
not  referred  as  often  or  as  particularly  to  authority,  as  I 
might  have  done,  since  there  are  so  many  different  edi- 
tions of  many  of  the  works,  that  it  would  only  confuse  the 
reader.  Thurloe's  State  Papers,  Rushworth,  Whitelocke, 
Clarendon,  Vaughan,  Godwin,  Dugdale,  Guizot,  both  his 
Revolution  and  Memoirs,  Perfect  Politician,  Mrs.  Hutchmson, 
Oliver  Cromwell's  Memoirs,  Forster's  Statesmen  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, Hume,  D'Aubigne,  Southey,  Disraeli's  Life  of 
Charles  I.,  Xeal's  History  of  Puritans,  and  many  other 
works  have  been  consulted,  in  writing  this  biography.  Mr. 
Herbert  has  helped  me  by  his  knowledge  of  the  battle- 
fields. 

Some  may  object  to  the  battle-scenes  of  this  work,  as 
they  have  to  those  of  Washington  and  his  Generals — saying 
that  I  foster  a  spirit  of  war.  To  such,  I  have  but  one  an- 
swer to  make — the  spirit  of  rebellion  against  oppression,  and 
deadly  hostility  to  it,  I  design  to  foster,  and  only  hope  to 
succeed.  When  men's  sensibihties  become  so  delicate  that 
they  cannot  reflect,  without  horror,  on  the  struggles  of  brave 
men  for  freedom,  and  can  sit  under  the  broad  tree  of  hberty, 

*  Mr.  Wiley's  edition  of  the  Letters  and  Speeches  of  Cromwell, 
though  otherwise  excellent,  cannot  be  relied  on  in  its  dates — it  is  full 
of  errors.  A  thorough  revision  of  the  work,  in  this  respect,  is  highly 
necessary. 


INTRODUCTION.  Xlll 

planted  by  their  forefathers,  and  watered  with  their  blood, 
and  look  off  on  the  fair  heritage  won  by  their  good  swords, 
with  no  other  feelings  but  pity  for  their  erroneous  ideas 
about  war,  and  of  wonder  at  their  cruelty,  they  have 
become  too  ethereal  for  this  world,  and  too  transcendental 
to  be  useful.  As  Cromwell  said  of  liberty  of  conscience, 
"I  quarrel  with  no  man's  conscience;"  but  God  forbid 
that  the  honor  or  liberty  of  my  country  should  ever  be 
entrusted  to  their  hands.  War,  in  itself,  is  the  greatest 
curse  of  man ;  but  waged  for  liberty,  his  highest  duty  and 
honor.  To  me,  the  great  question  of  freedom,  which  was 
battled  out  under  Cromwell,  afterwards  under  Washington, 
md  then  under  Bonaparte,  and  which  is  now  shaking 
Europe  to  its  centre,  is  the  question  of  the  age.  The  rise 
and  progress  of  each  struggle  possesses  to  me  more  in- 
terest than  all  other  events  put  together.  Men  have 
always  been  compelled  to  hew  their  way,  with  their  swords, 
to  freedom.  They  have  never  dreamed  nor  poetized  them- 
selves into  it,  and  never  will.  It  is  a  curious  fact,  and  one 
of  the  anomalies  our  race  presents,  that  those  among  us 
most  opposed  to  war,  are  the  very  class  whose  ultra  notions 
of  freedom — nay,  radicahsm  on  all  questions  of  Church  and 
State,  which  they  push  with  all  the  energy  they  possess— 
must,  just  so  far  as  successful,  produce  civil  war  and  blood- 
shed.    At  this  very  moment,   their  progress  in  Europe  is 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

shaking  the  continent  from  limit  to  limits  with  the  bustling 
preparations  of  war. 

So  long  as  oppression  is  maintained  by  physical  power,  it 
must  be  overthrown  by  physical  power.  Moral  power  is 
useless,  only  as  it  causes  a  transfer  of  the  former.  Civil 
and  politcai  liberty  have  never  advanced,  except  through 
revolutions. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 


Interest  of  the  Subject.  Birth  and  Family  of  Cromwell — His 
Genealogy — Early  Life — Enters  Cambridge — His  Marriage — 
Settles  down  on  a  Farm  for  Ten  Years — His  Conversion — Hy- 
pochondria— Chosen  Member  of  Parliament.  Synopsis  of 
Events  that  Preceded  His  Appearance  in  Public — Causes  of 
the  English  Revolution — Charles  I.  Ascends  the  Throne — As- 
sembling of  Parliament,  1625 — Discussion  of  Grievances — Dis- 
solution and  Sudden  Re-assembling  of  Parliament — Impeach- 
ment of  Buckingham — Dissolution  of  Parliament — Tyraimy  of 
Charles— Parliament  of  1628,  to  which  Cromwell  Is  Elected — 
Petition  of  Rights — Animated  Discussion  in  Parliament — Its 
Dissolution.  Cromwell  Returns  to  His  Farm — Murder  of 
Buckingham — His  Character — Despotism  of  Charles — Re-as- 
sembling of  Paiiiament,  1629 — Speech  of  Cromwell — Dissolu- 
tion of  Parliament,  and  Increased  Tyranny  of  the  King — Perse- 
cution of  the  Puritans — Laud — Trial  of  Strafford — The  Puritans 
— Trial  of  Hampden — Laud's  Attempts  to  Force  His  Reformed 
Liturgy  on  the  Scotch — Effects — Cromwell  in  the  Fens — Letter 
to  his  Cousin — His  Return  to  Parliament — Character  at  the 
Time     -         -  


CHAPTER  IL 

PROM    THE    LONG    PARLIAMENT    TO    THE    FIRST    CIVIL    WAR,   1640 — 1642. 

Short  Parliament — Second  Invasion  of  Scotland — Meeting  of  the 
Long  Parliament — Its  Stern  Aspect — Impeachment  of  Laud — 
Trial  and  Death  of  Strafford — His  Character — Personal  Ap- 
pearance ot  Cromwell — Appointed  on  a  Private  Committee — 
Defends  the  Poor — The  King  Visits  Scotland — Grand  Petition 
and  Remonstrance— Stormy  Debate  upon  It — Cromwed's  View 
of  It — Withdrawal  of  the  Bishops — Their  Impeachment — At- 
tempt to  Seize  the  Five  Members — Excitement  Caused  by  It — 

.  The  King  Leaves  Whitehall  never  to  Return  except  as  a 
Prisoner — Recapitulation — Cromwell  a  Patriot      -         -         -         33 

\ 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE    FIRST    CIVIL    WAR — FROM    1642    TO    THE    CAMPAIGN    OF    1644. 

Activity  of  Cromwell — Preparations  for  War — The  King  Erects 
His  Standard — Battle  of  Edgehill — Cromwell's  Opinion  of  It — 
Resolves  to  Raise  His  Ironsides — Their  Character — Fight  at 
Brentford — Enthusiasm  of  the  Citizens  of  London — Cromwell 
Takes  Croylaud,  Lowestoff,  Stamford  and  Burleigh  House — 
Fight  at  Grantham — Fight  at  Gainsborough — Death  of  Hamp- 
den— His  last  Hours  and  Burial — His  Character — The  Aid  of 
Scotland  Sought — Mob  of  Women  in  London — Battle  of  New- 
bury— Cromwell  Governor  of  Ely — Ratification  of  the  Cove- 
nant— Wiuceby  Fight — Religious  Character  of  the  Revolution  -  52 

CHAPTER   IV. 

THE    EXTRAORDINARY    CAMPAIGN    OF    1644. 

Execution  of  Laud  and  Others — Character  of  Laud — Defeat  of 
the  Irish  Regiments  by  Fairfax — The  Scotch  Enter  England — 
Cromwell  Joins  them  before  York — The  King  Defeats  Waller- 
Rupert  Enters  York — Battle  of  Marston  Moor — Cromwell's 
Ironsides — Cromwell's  Letter — Essex  Defeated,  and  his  Army 
Compelled  to  Surrender — Success  of  Montrose  in  Scotland — 
Second  Battle  of  Newbury — Ci'omwell  Accuses  Manchester  in 
Parliament — Is  Accused  in  Turn — Self-denying  Ordinance — 
The  Remodeling  of  the  Army — Its  Character  -        -        86 

CHAPTER  V. 

CAMPAIGN  OF  1645  "^O  THE  SPRIKC  &F    1646. 

Gromwell-s  Commission  Extended— Afi'air  ;>f  Islip  Bridge— 
Bletehington  House,  Witney — Bampton  Bush — The  Main 
Army  in  Motion — Cromwell  Sent  to  Cambi^dge — Recalled  and 
Joins  Fairfax — Battle  of  Naseby — Cromwell's  Letters  to  the 
House  of  Commons — Cromwell  Relieves  Leicester — Takes 
Bridgewater  and  Puts  Goring  to  Flight — Disperses  the  Club- 
men— Storming  of  Bristol — Cromwell  takes  Devizes,  Berkley 
Castle  and  Winchester — Storm  and  Sacking  of  Basing  House — 
Cromwell  Defeats  Lord  Wentworth — Joins  Fairfax  and  Takes 
Dartmouth — Defeats  Lord  Hopton — Movements  of  the  King, 
meanwhile — Defeatof  Lord' Astley — Negotiations  again  Opened 
with  Parliament — The  King  Flies  to  the  Scottish  Camp         -       116 


CONTENTS.  XVll 

CHAPTER    VI. 
BETWEEN  THE  CIVIL  WARS   FROM  THE  SPRING  OF  1646,   TO  THAT  OF  1648 

Struggle  between  the  Presbyterians  and  Independents — Negotia- 
tions with  the  King — Bargain  of  Parliament  with  Scotland — 
The  King  Given  up — The  Presbyterians  Resolve  to  Overthrow 
Cromwell,  and  the  Independents — Successful  Plot  of  Cromwell 
to  Carry  off  the  King — The  Army  Refuses  to  Disband,  and  Re- 
monstrates with  Parliament — Marches  on  London — Consterna- 
tion of  the  People — Expulsion  of  the  Eleven  Members,  and 
Occupation  of  London  by  the  Troops — Triumph  of  the  Inde- 
pendents— New  Character  of  the  Revolution — Slanderers  of 
Cromwell — Interview  of  the  King  with  his  Children — Noble  ., 
Attempt  of  Cromwell  to  Induce  the  King  to  Accept  the  Throne  \ 
under  Restrictions  which  should  Secure  the  Liberties  of  the  i 
People — Denounced  by  the  Army  for  It — Discovers  the  Treach- 
ery of  the  King — His  Flight — Mutiny  in  the  Army — Quelled  by 
Cromwell — Treaty  of  the  King  with  the  Scotch — Anger  of  the 
Parliament,  which  Resolves  to  Settle  the  Nation  without  Him — 
Cromwell  Consults  the  Leaders  as  to  the  Form  of  Government 
to  be  Adopted — Commencement  of  the  Insurrection — Mob  in 
London — Presbyterians  again  Obtain  the  Ascendency,  and 
Cromwell  Departs  for  Vv'ales — His  Previous  Sickness — His 
Son  Richard  Contracts  a  Marriage — Prayer-meeting  in  the 
Army 147 


CHAPTER   VIL 

THE    SECOND    CIVIL    WAR. 1648. 

Cromwell  Marches  to  Subdue  the  Insurrection  in  Wales — Invests 
Pembroke  Castle — Fairfax  Drives  the  Insurgents  into  Colches- 
ter— Lambert  sent  North  to  Retard  the  Scotch — Cromwell 
Reduces  Pembroke,  and  Starts  Northward — His  Unparalleled 
Mai'ch — Joins  Lambert — Battle  of  Preston — Enters  Edinburgh 
— Proceedings  in  Parliament — Attempt  to  Make  a  New  Treaty 
with  the  King,  and  Destroy  Cromv/ell  and  the  Independents — 
Stormy  Debate  in  Parliament — Army  Marches  on  London — 
Pride's  Purge — Return  of  Cromwell — Course  of  the  Independ- 
ents Defended -       199 


CHAPTER   VIIL 

TRIAL    AND    EXECUTION    OF    THE    KING. 

■The  King  Brought  from  Hurst  Castle  to  Windsor — His  Impeach- 
ment— Creation  of  the  High  Court  of  Justice    to  Try  Him — 


XVlll  CONTENTS. 

Westminster  Hall  during  the  Trial — Address  of  President 
Bradsliaw — Interruption  of  the  Court  by  Downs — Conduct  of 
Cromwell — Sentence  of  the  King — His  Agitation,  and  Efforts 
to  be  Heard — Inter\'iew  with  His  Children — Attempts  to  save 
Charles — Conduct  of  Cromwell  in  signing  the  Death-Wan-aut — 
The  King's  Execution — Cromwell's  Soliloquy  over  the  Corpse 
' — Defence  of  Him  against  His  Biographers — Ireton  Chief 
Actor — Defence  of  Parliament — Character  of  the  King  -       234 


CHAPTER   IX. 

CAMPAIGN    IN    IRELAND — FR03I    1649    TO    MAY,    1650. 

Establishment   of  a  Republic — Milton  Chosen  Secretaiy  of  the 
Executive  Council — The  Levellers — Ci'omwell  Appointed   to 
Command   the    Expedition   to   Ireland — Insurrection  Quelled 
by  Him — Pomp  and  Splendor  of  His  Departure — Marriage  of 
His  Son  Richard — Arrives  at  Dublin — Cruelties  of  the  Irish —    > 
Storming  and  Massacre  of  Drogheda — Of  Wexford — History  of 
His   Movements — Recalled   to   Resist  the    Scotch   Invasion — 
Character  of  the  Campaign — Defence  of  Cromwell — Final  Set- 
tlement of  Ireland  -         -        -        -        -        -        -        -       261 

\ 

CHAPTER   X. 

INVASION  OF  SCOTLAND.   1650 — 1651. 

Cromwell  Lands  in  England — His  Reception — Accepts  Command 
of  the  Ai-my  Destined  for  Scotland — Charles  II. — His  Base 
Conduct — Cromwell  Marches  North — Bntex's  Scotland — Strives 
in  Vain  to  Provoke  Lesley  to  Give  Battle — Lambert  Wounded 
— Movements  Around  Edinburgh — Battle  of  Dunbar — Crom- 
well Invests  Edinburgh  Castle — Marches  to  Glasgow — Inter- 
views with  a  Scotch  Minister — Outflanks  the  Scotch  at  Stirling, 
and  Compels  them  to  Evacuate  the  Place — The  Scotch  Invade 
England — Pursued  by  Cromwell — Battle  of  Worcester — Re- 
view of  Cromwell's  Career    -..----       303 


CHAPTER   XL 

FROM  THE  BATTLE  OF  WORCESTER  TO  THE    PROTECTORATE 1651 

TO  1653. 

Cromwell  Moves  that  Parliament  Fix  a  Day  for  its  Dissolution — 
The  Rump  Parliament — Cromwell's  Course  Defended— Death 
of  Ireton — Malice  of  Cromwell's  Biographers — Navigation  Act 
—War  with  the  Dutch — Victories  of  Blake— Attempt  of  Par- 


liament  to  Crush  the  Army  and  Cromwell — Treachery  of 
Members — Dispersion  of  Parliament  by  Cromwell  and  His 
jVIiisketeers — Defence  of  the  Measure — Barebones  Parliament 
— Its  Extraordinary  Character — Dissolves  Itself — The  Dutch 
Sue  for  Peace — Cromwell  Proclaimed  Lord  Protector        -       343 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  protectorate. 

From  December,  1653,  to  the  Second  Protectorate  Parliament, 
September,  1657 — Ordinances  Issued  by  Cromwell — Henry 
Cromwell  goes  to  Ireland — Character  of  the  New  Government 
— Peace  Abroad — Respect  Shown  to  the  Protector — Sycophancy 
of  Dr.  South — Assembling  of  Parliament — Its  Unjustifiable  and 
Dangerous  Proceedings — Noble  Address  of  Cromwell — Sub- 
mission of  Parliament — Its  Acts — Cromwell  Thj-own  from  His 
Carriage — Death  of  His  Mother — The  West  Indian  Expedi- 
tion— Dissolution  of  Parliament — Cromwell's  Arbitrary  Course 
— The  Major-Generals — Persecution  of  the  Vaudois,  and  Noble 
Interference  of  Cromwell — Milton — Cx'omwell  Champion  of 
Protestantism — Assembling  of  the  New  Parliament       -         -       37C 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FROM    THE    SECOND    PROTECTORATE    PARLIAMENT    TO    THE    DEATH    OP 
CROMWELL,  SEPT.,   1656,  TO  SEPT.,    1658. 

(Opening  of  Parliament — Members  Rejected — Naylor  and  the 
Quakers — Victory  of  Blake  and  Montague — Sindercombe  Con- 
spiracy— Narrow  Escape  of  Cromwell — Petition  and  Advice — 
Cromwell  Otfered  the  Crown — Conferences  on  the  Subject — 
Finally  Rejects  It— Stateineuts  of  His  Enemies — Conspiracies 
— Marriage  of  His  Two  Daughters — Re-assembling  of  Parlia- 
ment— Refuses  to  Acknowledge  the  New  House  Provided  for 
in  "  Petitions  and  Advice" — Cx-omwell's  Speech — The  Madness 
of  Parliament  Encourages  Conspirators — Dissolved  by  Crom- 
well— His  New  Life-Guard — Family  Afflictions — His  Last  \ 
Sickness  and  Death — His  Character 401 


OLIVER  CROMWELL 


CHAPTER    I. 

Interest  of  the  Subject.  Birth  and  Family  of  Cromwell — His  Geneal- 
ogy— Early  Life — Enters  Cambridge — His  Marriage — Settles  down 
on  a  Farm  for  Ten  Years — His  Conversion — Hypochondria — Cho- 
sen Member  of  Parliament.  Synopsis  of  Events  that  Preceded 
His  Appearance  in  Public — Causes  of  the  English  Revolution — 
Charles  I.  Ascends  the  Throne — Assembling  of  Parliament,  1625 
— Discussion  of  Grievances — Dissolution  and  Sudden  Re-assem- 
bling of  Parliament — Impeachment  of  Buckingham — Dissolution 
of  Parliament — Tyranny  of  Charles — ParUament  of  162S,  to  Which 
Cromwell  is  Elected — Petition  of  Rights — Animated  Discussion  in 
Parliament — Its  Dissolution.  Cromwell  Returns  to  His  Farm — 
Murder  of  Buckingham — His  Character — Despotism  of  Charles — 
Re-assembling  of  Parliament,  1629 — Speech  of  Cromwell — Disso- 
lution of  Parliament,  and  Increased  Tyranny  of  the  King — Perse- 
cution of  the  Puritans — Laud — Trial  of  Strafford — The  Puritans — 
Trial  of  Hampden — Laud's  Attempts  to  Force  His  Reformed  Liturgy 
on  the  Scotch — Effects — Cromwell  in  the  Fens — Letter  to  His 
Cousin — His  Return  to  Parliament— Character  at  the  Time. 

Nothing  possesses  deeper  interest  to  the  thoughtful 
man,  than  the  history  of  a  struggle  between  an  oppressed 
people  and  their  powerful  rulers.  All  that  is  great  and 
noble  •  in  our  nature,  is  called  into  action,  and  we 
then  witness  the  lofty  patriotism,  free  offering  of  one's 
self,  life,  and  fortunes  on  a  common  altar,  and  that 
inspired  courage  which  make  us  w^onder  at  our  race. 
Especially  do  we  love  to  trace  the  progress  of  one  all 


2  O  L  I  V  E  R      C  R  O  :\I  W  E  L  L  . 

powerful  intellect,  making  his  steady  way  through  the 
chaos  or  anarchy  that  surrounds  him — gradually  mould- 
ing and  wielding  the  raging  elem.ents,  until  at  length 
he  presents  in  himself  the  product  of  the  struggle,  and 
holds  in  his  hands  the  hopes  of  a  trusting  people.  So 
also  the  strong  and  excited  workings  of  the  human  mind 
— its  bewildered  and  conflicting  views,  as  old  forms  and 
institutions  are  breaking  to  pieces,  and  new  ones  rising 
in  their  places,  cannot  be  witnessed  without  the  liveliest 
sympathy. 

Pei^aps  of  all  revolutions,  none  except  our  own  pos- 
sess stronger  claims  to  the  attention  of  Americans,  than 
the  one  in  which  Cromwell  bore  so  distinguished  a  part. 
The  noble  principles  which  lay  at  the  bottom  of  it — the 
conscience,  as  well  as  enthusiasm,  which  bore  it  on,  and 
more  than  all,  the  direct  influence  it  had  upon  our  own 
— indeed,  being  the  parent  of  it,  and  thus  of  tlie  revo- 
lutions which  have  since  followed  in  Europe — place  it 
before  all  others.  Great  constitutional  rights  were  then 
for  the  first  time  settled,  and  the  human  mind  put  on  the 
right  track  to  recover  the  only  liberty  worth  having.  In 
such  a  cause,  the  valorous  deeds  of  Puritan  freemen, 
and  the  blootly  battle  field  itself,  can  be  contemplated 
without  horror,  and  pondered  on  with  other  feelings  than 
those  of  admiration  for  courageous  and  daring  men. 

Of  all  heroes  Cromwell  possesses  the  most  problemati- 
cal character.  A  mystery  shrouds  him  and  will  shroud 
him  to  the  end  of  time.  This  results  from  two  causes — 
first,  from  the  doubts  and  uncertainty,  which  the  contrast 
between  his  words,  letters,  and  speeches,  and  the  ac- 


1599.]  HIS     GENEALOGY.  3 

counts  we  have  always  regarded  as  history,  is  calculated 
to  produce ;  and  secondly,  from  the  strange  religious  en- 
thusiasm which  mastered  him,  and  rendered  him  an 
enigma  even  to  his  most  intimate  friends. 

Oliver  Cromwell  was  born  at  Huntingdon,  in  St. 
John's  Parish,  on  the  25th  of  April,  1599.  His  father, 
Robert  Cromwell,  was  the  youngest  son  of  Sir  Henry 
Cromwell,  knight,  who  lived  in  the  style  of  a  noble  in  the 
mansion  of  Hinchinbrook,  near  Huntingdon,  and  grand- 
son of  the  famous  Richard  Cromwell,  knighted  by  Henry 
VIIL,  for  his  prowess  in  the  field.*  His  mother  was 
daughter  of  William  Steward,  a  wealthy  man,  whose  son 
was  also  a  knight.  Her  first  husband,  Wilham  Lynne, 
Esquire,  lived  but  a  year  after  their  marriage,  and  was 
buried  with  his  only  child  in  Ely  Cathedral.  Robert 
Cromwell   married  the  widow,  by  whom   he   had  ten 

*  On  May  day,  1540,  a  brilliant  tournament  at  Westminster  opens 
its  lists  before  us,  in  which  Richard  Cromwell,  and  others,  had  pro- 
claimed themselves  to  France,  Flanders,  and  Scotland,  the  defenders 
of  the  honor  and  rights  of  their  English  King.  Henry  VIII.  looks  on, 
and  when  Sir  Richard  Cromwell  has  struck  down  challenger  after 
challenger,  with  undaunted  arm,  forth  from  his  deep  broad  chest,  rolls 
out  the  royaV  laugh  of  Henry.  "  Formerly  thou  wast  my  Dick,  but 
hereafter  thou  shalt  be  my  diamond."  Then  from  the  finger  of  majesty 
drops  a  diamond  ring,  which  Sir  Richard  picks  up,  *  *  *  and  such  a 
ring  did  Oliver  Cromwell  wear,  when  he  left  his  farm  at  Ely,  to  bear 
giore  formidable  arms  at  the  challenge  of  a  king.  (Vide  Forster's 
Statesmen  of  the  Commonwealth  of  England.— Ed.  by  Rev.  Dr.  Choules, 
page  393.  It  is  also  asserted  that  Oliver  was  related  to  Thomas  Crom- 
well, Earl  of  Essex,  minister  of  Henry  VHL,  and  called  ''Malleus 
Monachorum,"  a  mauler  of  monasteries. 


4  .    OLIVER     CROxM  WELL. 

children — Oliver,  afterv/ards  Protector,  being  the  fifth. 
There  were  but  three  sons  in  all,  of  whom  Henry  lived 
to  be  only  twenty  years  of  age,  while  Robert  survived 
his  birth  but  a  few  months.  Thus,  of  this  large  family, 
Oliver  became  the  only  male  representative. 

From  this  succinct  account,  it  will  be  seen  that  Oliver 
was  no  base  born  man.  His  grandfather  and  uncle,  on 
Ills  father's  side,  were  both  knights,  while  an  uncle  on 
the  mother's  side,  had  also  the  same  rank.  Other  aunts 
and  uncles  in  that  region  were  wealthy  and  honorable, 
and  he  v/as  connected,  more  or  less  remotely  with  several 
distinguished  families.  Bred  among  gentlemen,  and  edu- 
cated as  the  son  of  a  gentleman,  he  was  far  from  being 
the  rude,  uncouth  person  his  enemies  represent  him  to 
have  been.* 

His  father's  estate  lay  along  the  banks  of  the  Ouse, 
and  yielded  an  income  of  some  81500,  American  cur- 
rency— a  sum  in  those  times,  equal  to  treble  that  amount 
now.  The  estate  and  mansion  of  Hinchinbrook,  are  at 
present  the  seat  of  the  Earl  of  Sandwich. 

But  Vv'hether  Oliver  Cromweil  was  the  son  of  a  king 
or  a  carpenter,  matters  but  little,  for  he  made  himself  a 
place  and  acquired  a  title,  far  superior  to  those  of  any 
monarch  who  has  succeeded  him  on  the  English  throne. 
Of  his  boyhood  but  little  is  known — uncertain  tradition 
relates  some  incidents  which  may  or  may  not  be  true.f  / 

*  Milton  says  in  his  prose  works,  "  Est  Oliverius  Cromwellus  genere 

nobili  atque  illustri  ortus  :    nomen  republica  olim  sub  regibus  bene 

administrata  clarum,  religione  simul  orthodoxa  vel  restituta  turn  pri- 

mum  apud  nos  vel  stabilita  clarius." 

'^■■.    t  These  incidents  are  some  of  them  curious — one  asserts  that  the 


1617.]  EARLY     DISSIPATION.  5 

The  standing  of  his  uncle  at  Hinchinbrook  may  be 
inferred  from  the  fact  that  King  James,  when  on  his  way 
from  Scotland  to  assume  the  crown  of  England,  stopped 
two  nights  with  him,  and  was  entertained  in  the  most 
sumptuous  manner,  much  to  the  injury  of  the  old  knight's 
purse. 

When  seventeen  years  of  age  he  was  entered,  April  23, 
at  Sidney  Sussex  College,  the  same  day  on  which  Shak- 
speare  died.  The  next  year,  1617,  he  lost  both  his  father 
and  his  grandfather  on  the  mother's  side.  These  sad 
events  cut  short  his  education  at  Cambridge,  and  he  re- 
turned to  his  father's  house  to  take  possession  of  the 
estate,  of  which  he  was  now  heir.  There  is  a  tradition 
that  he  went  soon  after  to  London  to  study  law ;  and 
while  there,  lived  a  wild  and  dissipated  life.  Notwith- 
standing the  denial  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  a  descendant  of 
the  family,  and  of  Mr.  Carlyle,  there  is  good  evidence  for 
believing  this  to  be  true.  Cotem.poraries  speak  of  it  as  a 
thing  well   known,  and  among  them  Richard  Baxter. 

devil  presided  at  his  birt'n,  and  left  his  figure  on  the  hangings  of  the 
curtains  around  his  bed.  Another,  that  a  monkey  once  carried  him  on 
the  roof  of  the  house,  and  brought  him  down  again  se;fely,  to  the  no 
little  consternation  of  the  f.mily.  Once  he  wr.s  saved  from  drowning 
by  a  curate,  who  piterwards  repented  the  act.*-  At  another  time,  he  flog- 
ged the  little  Duke  of  York,  afterwards  Charles  I.  But  more  strange 
than  all,  he  saw  in  his  boyhood,  once,  a  spectre  in  the  shape  of  a  wo- 
man, who  slowly  withdrawing  the  curtains  from  his  bed,  toid  him 
that  he  was  to  be  the  greatest  man  in  England.  It  is  laughable  to  see 
how  much  is  made  out  of  his  school-boy  declamations,  and  to  read  the 
account  of  his  smearing  his  friends  with  dirt  on  a  certain  occasion,  told 
in  the  most  serious  manner.  His  robbery  of  birds'  nests  and  orchards 
rests  on  the  same  foundation  with  all  the  other  anecdotes — mere  gossip. 


6  OLIVERCROMWELL. 

Nor  should  this  seem  strange,  in  one  of  his  wild  inde- 
pendent character,  and  strong  passions.  The  period  of 
dissipation,  however,  was  of  short  duration ;  for  as  he 
settled  down  into  manhood,  these  faults  raid  errors  were 
thrown  aside.  If  he  was  in  London  the  year  after  his 
return  from  college,  he  doubtless  witnessed  the  execution 
of  "Sir  Vv'alter  Raleigh — a  scene  that  furnished  him  food 
for  reflection. 

In  1620,  then  twenty-one  years  of  age,  he  was  mar- 
ried, in  London,  to  Elizabeth  Bourchier,  daughter  of  Sir 
James  Bourchier,  Knight.  Returning  home  with  his 
wife,  he  settled  down  as  a  staid  farmer ;  and  for  nearly 
ten  years  disappears  from  history.  In  the  changeless 
routine  of  an  agricultural  hfe  he,  doubtless,  passed  his 
days.  The  next  year  after  his  marriage  a  son  was  born 
to  him,  named  Robert ;  but  how  long  he  lived,  and  what 
became  of  him,  is  unknown.  Two  years  from  this  time 
a  second  son,  Oliver,  was  born,  of  whose  future  history 
we  are  also  left  in  the  dark.  This  much  only  can  be 
ascertained,  that  he  drew  his  sword  in  battle  beside  his 
father,  and  fell  almost  on  the  threshold  of  that  great 
contest. 

During  this  period  of  ten  years,  Cromwell  doubtless 
became  converted  to  Christianity.  Nothing  certain  is 
known ;  but  vague  rumors  have  come  down  to  us  of  his 
being  hypochonllriacal  and  filled  w^ith  superstitious  no- 
tions— sending  for  his  physician  at  midnight,  and  having 
strange  fancies  about  the  town  cross.  Ill  health  may 
have  produced  these  fantasies ;  but,  doubtless,  the  most 
correct  solution  will  be  found  in  the  agitated  state  of  his 


1628.]  ELECTED     TO     PARLIAMENT.  7 

mind  respecting  religious  truths.  We  have  often  beheld, 
in  imagination,  this  young  and  solemn  farmer  walking 
gloomily  beside  the  Ouse,  pondering  on  that  dread  eter- 
nity to  which  he  was  hastening,  and  feeding  the  enthu- 
siasm which  afterwards  carried  him  triumphantly  over 
so  many  battle  fields.  The  history  of  these  four  years 
would  throw  a  flood  of  hght  on  his  after  career. 

The  doctrines  of  the  Puritans  had  already  taken  deep 
aoid  of  the  public  mind,  and  Cromwell,  among  others, 
suffered  under  strong  convictions  of  sin.  At  what  time 
he  came  out  from  this  "  blackness  of  darkness,"  is  not 
known ;  but  when  he  appears  again  on  the  surface  of 
history  we  find  him  a  strong  Calvinist  and  thorough 
reformer ;  and  his  house  becomes  a  great  resort  for  non- 
conformists and  all  who  are  persecuted  by  the  estab- 
lished church. 

Among  those  of  elevated  rank  and  worth,  adopting 
the  same  views,  were  John  Hampden,  Pym,  Lord  Brook, 
Lord  Say,  Lord  Montague,  and  others. 

In  1627  Hinchinbrook  passed  out  of  the  Cromwell 
family,  being  bought  by  the  Montagues  for  £3000. 
Old  Sir  Oliver  Cromwell  retired  on  some  land  still  left 
him  of  his  once  fine  estate,  and  his  seat  in  parKament 
became  vacant.  Young  Oliver,  his  nephew,  however, 
was  soon  after  returned  member  from  Huntingdon,  and 
took  his  seat  March  17,  1627-8.  This  was  the  third 
parliament  of  Charles ;  and  that  great  movement,  which 
was  to  convulse  England  and  overturn  her  throne,  had 
already  begun.  What  Cromwell  thought  of  the  collision 
between  the  king  and  his  parliament,  or  what  part  he 


8  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

took  in  the  divisions  between  the  Puritans  and  the  estab- 
hshed  church,  can  be  inferred  only  from  his  after 
career. 

Having  now  brought  Cromwell  on  the  stage  of  pubhc 
life,  we  must  go  back  a  little  and  describe  the  events 
that  had  been  transpiring  while  this  unknown  youth,  on 
whose  life  hung  such  momentous  results,  was  ripening 
into  manhood.  The  same  sun  w^hich  looked  down  .on 
his  boyish  sports,  and  afterwards  on  his  quiet  pursuits,  be- 
held also  the  gathering  of  elements  which  were  to  con- 
vulse the  realm.  The  English  revolution  was  not  a 
sudden  outbreak — a  mere  gust  of  passion — but  a  steady 
growth.  It  is  difficult  to  date  its  commencement ;  for 
liberty  usually  keeps  pace  with  civilization,  and  civi- 
lization is  gradual  in  its  progress.  The  accession  of 
the  Tudors,  however,  may  be  named  as  the  point  where 
the  great  changes  commenced ;  for  with  them  began  the 
humiliation  of  the  barons,  who  alone  served  as  checks  to 
arbitrary  power.  In  England  and  on  the  Continent, 
these  rich  feudal  lords,  with  their  numerous  retainers, 
stood  between  the  king  and  his  subjects,  and  for  a  long 
time  were  the  only  defenders  of  liberty.  But  under  the 
strong  hand  of  Henry  VIII.,  and,  afterw^ards,  the  skilful 
policy  of  Elizabeth,  they  were  completely  crushed,  and 
kingly  powder  for  a  while  left  untrammeled.  Henry 
VII.  modified  the  feudal  laws  so  that  the  nobility  could 
dispose  of  their  fiefs,  the  sales  of  which,  and  also  of  the 
rich  domains  of  the  church,  afterwards  given  them  by 
Henry  VIII. ,  caused  a  large  transfer  of  property  from 
the  higher  nobility  to  the  wealthy  commoners.     Eliza- 


CAUSES     OF     THE     REVOLUTION.  9 

beth,  to  avoid  asking  subsidies,  which  were  repugnant 
to  her  people,  disposed  also  of  a  large  extent  of  crown 
lands,  that  were  bought  up  by  rich  traders  and  thrifty 
farmers.  But  in  a  commercial  country  the  transfer  of 
wealth  is  the  transfer  of  power,  and  so  it  proved  in 
England.  The  common  people,  in  becoming  land- 
holders, rose  in  their  own  importance,  and  saw  at  once 
the  necessity  of  securing  guaranties  to  the  wealth  they 
had  acquired.  Something  more  than  the  word  of  a 
king  was  needed  to  protect  them  from  rapacious  power. 
The  rights  of  property  naturally  grew  out  of  its  pos- 
session, but  to  maintain  those  rights  would  encroach 
on  the  royal  prerogative,  and  did ;  and  here  is  the  grand 
source  of  the  struggle  between  Charles  and  his  parliament. 
The  cause  of  it  can  be  reduced  to  the  simplest  ele- 
ments. The  higher  nobility,  becoming  impoverished 
through  their  extravagance,  sold  large  portions  of  their 
estates  to  the  lower  orders;  Queen  Elizabeth  did  the 
same  thing  with  the  crown  lands,  to  meet  state  expenses, 
and  thus  so  enriched  them  that  the  House  of  Commons 
at  length  became  three  times  as  wealthy  as  the  House  ot 
Lords.  Trade  and  commerce  helped  to  swell  this  vast 
amount  of  wealth,  which  in  turn  naturally  asked  for 
guaranties  and  securities — in  short,  to  be  placed  under 
well  defined  and  just  laws.  The  king  not  only  refused 
to  be-  trammeled  by  such  restrictions,  but  would  not 
submit  to  the  encroachment  on  his  power  the  demand 
for  them  made.  Hence,  he  and  the  ciommons  came  in 
collision,  and,  as  neither  would  yield,  a  rupture  was 
1* 


10  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  VV  E  L  L  . 

inevitable,  which  ivept  widening  till  the  throne  and  king 
sunk  in  the  gulf. 

The  Reformation,  however,  should  not  be  overlooked 
in  estimating  the  causes  which  produced  the  English 
revolution.  Henry  YIII.  was  not  aware,  w^hen  in  his 
pride  he  renounced  all  allegiance  to  the  Pope  of  Rome, 
that  he  was  teaching  his  people  to  brook  no  tyranny  of 
opinion,  from  whatever  source  it  came.  Reforms  must 
advance  or  retrograde ;  hence  the  people  of  England  had 
no  sooner  dared  to  reject  the  authority  of  the  Roman 
pontiff,  than  they  began  to  question  that  of  the  king,  in 
rehgious  matters.  After  renouncing  the  forms  and 
ceremonies  of  the  papal  church,  it  was  only  taking 
another  step  to  renounce  those  of  the  English  church. 
The  first  departure  is  always  the  most  difficult.  But 
civil  and  religious  rights  were  closely  united;  indeed, 
they  were  inseparable ;  and  hence  the  maintenance  ol 
one  involved  that  of  the  other.  The  king  and  the 
bishops  could  not  enforce  the  laws  of  the  church  without 
the  aid  of  civil  power;  and  the  non-comformists  soon 
began  to  question  the  legitimacy  and  origin  of  that 
power  which  would  coerce  them  in  matters  of  con- 
science. 

Thus,  while  the  parliament,  standing  on  the  broad 
basis  of  constitutional  freedom,  confronted  the  king, 
the  people  everywhere  were  discussing  the  doctrine  of 
personal  liberty.  Although  the  great  struggle  com- 
menced in  parliament,  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  the 
latter  w^ould  have  triumphed,  if  it  had  not  been  for  this 
religious  element,  which  thus  entered  into  it,  and  event- 


1625.]     CHARLES     ASCENDS     THE     THRONE.  11 

ually  absorbed  all  the  rest.  Great  questions  of  state 
became  lost  in  those  of  conscience ;  and  what  was  begun 
in  defence  of  the  worldly  interests  of  the  wealthy,  ended 
in  the  open  avowal  and  maintenance  of  the  religious 
eights  and  liberty  of  the  meanest  peasant  in  the  land. 

While  everything  was  tending  to  this  result,  Charles 
[.  came  to  the  throne.  Of  a  handsome  face  and  person, 
and  possessing  a  kind  heart,  he  had  all  the  requisites  of 
a  popular  king.  The  daughter  of  the  king  of  Spain  was 
selected  as  his  bride  by  his  father ;  but  insisting  on  going 
himself  to  woo  her,  he  obstinately  refused  to  fulfil  his 
father's  wishes,  and  returned  without  her.  When  the 
news  reached  England,  bonfires  and  illuminations,  kin- 
dled in  every  part  of  the  land,  attested  the  joy  of  the 
people,  who  had  not  yet  forgotten  the  persecutions  of 
Mary ;  and  hence  looked  with  dread  on  a  catholic  queen. 
tie,  however,  mended  matters  but  little  when  he  soon 
after  married  Henrietta,  daughter  of  the  king  of  France, 
and  a  Bourbon. 

No  king  ever  ascended  the  throne  under  apparently 
more  favorable  auspices  than  Charles.  The  people 
were  kindly  disposed  towards  him,  and  he  towards  them, 
and  mutual  confidence  and  good  will  promised  to  render 
his  reign  both  peaceful  and  happy.  But  he  unfor- 
tunately had  imbibed  the  principles  of  government 
carried  out  by  Spain  and  other  despotic  governments  of 
Curope.  Like  England  these  had  subdued  the  proud 
barons  who  so  long  held  the  sovereigns  in  check,  till  the 
throne  had  become  supreme  and  its  will  -  law.  But  the 
Reformation  had  made  a  different  people  of  the  Chris- 


12  O L I  V E R     CK O  M  W  E LL . 

tian  inhabitants  of  England — a  people  that  would  in  no 
way  tolerate  the  system  of  absolute  monarchy.  Charles, 
therefore,  labored  under  a  gi'eat  mistake,  when  he  ascend- 
ed the  British  throne.  Designing  to  reign  kindly  and 
w^ell,  he  never  dreamed  that  his  subjects  w^ould  distrust 
his  word  or  require  guaranties  of  his  good  behavior. 

THE    FIRST    PARLIAMENT. 

He  seemed  in  haste  to  assemble  parliament  in  order 
to  express  his  kind  intentions — and  when  it  met,  1625, 
he   addressed  it   in   terms  of  confidence   and   respect. 
But   such   a  parliament  probably  never  before  assem- 
bled in   England.     Among   the   members  were   found 
Sir  Edward  Coke,   Francis  Seymour,  Dudley  Digges, 
John  Elliot,  Wentworth,  Selden,  Pym,  and  others ;  men 
of  large  capacity  and  unrivalled  patriotism.     Viewing 
with  alarm  the  unbounded  power  of  the  crow^n,  and  fore- 
seeing the  disasters  that  would  befall  their  country  un- 
less it  could  be  brought  within  constitutional  limits,  they 
determined,  at  the  outset,  to  take  advantage  of  the  king's 
want  of  money  to  force  him  to  a  recognition  of  their 
rights.     England,  at  the  time,  was  at  war  with  Spain, 
^and  Charles  w^as  embarrassed  for  w^ant  of  funds  to  carry 
it  on.     This  the  parliament  knew,  and  so,  instead   oi 
voting  him  the  usual  supplies,  granted  only  the  custom 
duties  for  a  year — amounting  to  £112,000.     This,  no 
doubt,  was  mere  mockery,  so  far  as  furnishing  adequate 
supplies  was  concerned,  but  it  answered  the  purpose  for 
which  it  was  intended,  viz.,  to  show  the  kinsr  and  court 


1626.]  SECOND     PARLIAMENT.  13 

that  the  commons  of  England  had  assembled  to  make  a 
contract,  not  obey  orders.  Certain  grievances  were  to 
be  redressed,  and  certain  rights  acknowledged,  before 
they  would  release  the  monarch  from  the  financial  diffi- 
culties that  surrounded  him.  Past  and  future  subsidies 
came  under  its  cognizance,  the  state  of  religion,  the 
repression  of  popery,  and  the  protection  of  commerce — 
in  short,  it  reached  every  department  of  government. 
The  House  of  Lords  refused  to  sanction  the  vote  of  the 
house  granting  only  the  custom  duties  for  a  year,  but 
the  latter  would  go  no  further  until  grievances  were 
redressed.  The  king,  indignant  at  this  attempt,  as  he 
termed  it,  to  compel  him  to  act,  thus  encroaching  on 
his  sovereignty,  dissolved  the  parliament,  determined  to 
govern  without  it. 

Succeeding  but  poorly,  however,  in  his  efforts  to 
raise  money,  he  in  February  again  assembled  it. 

THE    SECOND    PARLIAMENT. 

The  first  parliament  asked  for  redress  of  grievances, 
the  second  immediately  impeached  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, the  king's  favorite,  as  the  author  of  them.  Charles 
had  taken  measures  to  make  this  parliament  more  tract- 
able, by  keeping  out  of  it  the  most  popular  orators,  such 
as  Coke,  Pym,  Wentworth,  Seymour,  and  others.  The 
Earl  of  Bristol,  also,  a  personal  enemy  of  Buckingham, 
received  no  summons  to  attend.  He  complaining  of 
this  neglect  to  the  peers,  the  king  sent  the  summons, 
but  with   it  an  order  to  remain  on  his  estates.     The 


14  O  L  I  \'  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

resolute  earl  again  appealed  to  the  House  of  Lords,  hint- 
ing that  the  liberty  of  all  its  members  was  involved  in 
the  tyranny  practised  on  him.  For  this  the  king  im- 
peached him  of  high  treason;  but  the  earl,  nothing 
daunted,  impeached  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  in  turn. 
The  king  had  sagacity  enough  to  discover  that  this 
double  impeachment,  coming  both  from  a  peer  of  the 
realm  and  from  the  representatives  of  the  people,  was 
aimed  as  much  against  him  as  his  favorite.  Looking 
upon  it,  therefore,  not  only  as  an  encroachment  on  his 
power  but  an  insult  to  himself,  he  addressed  a  remon- 
strance to  the  House  of  Commons,  and  at  the  same  time 
forbade  the  judges,  to  whom  the  House  of  Peers  had 
submitted  certain  legal  questions  touching  the  case  of 
the  earl,  to  ansv/er. 

The  judges  obeyed,  but  the  commons  immediately 
appointed  eight  of  its  members  as  commissioners  to  sup- 
port the  impeachment.  A  conference  was  held  with 
the  House  of  Lords,  but  as  soon  as  it  Vv^as  over,  two  of 
the  principal  commissioners  were  sent  to  the  tower  for 
insolence  of  speech.  The  commons,  indignant  at  this 
act  of  tyranny,  refused  to  do  anything  till  the  commis- 
sioners were  set  at  liberty.  Threats,  remonstrances, 
and  promises  were  alike  powerless,  and  the  king  was 
compelled  to  yield.  Defeated  and  baffled  on  every  side, 
and  hearing  that  the  commons  were  prepa^ring  a  general 
remonstrance,  he  summarily  dissolved  this  parliament 
also.  Lord  Arundel,  whom  he  had  been  compelled  to 
set  at  liberty,  was  again,  at  the  request  of  the  House  of 


1628.]  THIRD     PARLIAiMENT.  15 

Lords,  put  under  arrest,  the  Earl  of  Bristol  sent  to  the 
tower,  and  Buckingham  released. 

Determined  to  be  an  absolute  sovereign,  like  the  other 
monarchs  of  Europe,  he  could  not  see  the  spirit  that 
was  abroad,  and  therefore  rushed  blindly  on  his  own  ruin. 
A  general  loan  was  ordered,  the  sea-ports  and  maritime 
districts  commanded  to  furnish  vessels  (the  first  attempt 
at  ship  money),  passive  obedience  was  preached  by  the 
direction  of  the  king ;  those  who  refused  to  grant  the 
money  were  thrown  into  prison ;  the  military  were  dis- 
tributed over  the  kingdom ;  the  courts  of  justice  over- 
awed, and  Charles  I.  seemed  resolved  to  carry  his  doc- 
trine of  tyranny  by  one  grand  coup  de  main.  But  he 
only  awakened  deeper  indignation  and  hostility,  and 
nursed  the  fire  he  expected  to  quench. 

In  the  meantime  defeat  attended  the  armies  abroad — 
the  expedition  against  Rochelle  and  the  isle  of  Rhe,  com- 
manded by  Buckingham,  proved  a  miserable  failure. 
More  money  must  therefore  be  raised,  and  the  king 
unable  to  do  it  alone,  again  assembled  parliament,  March 
17,  1628,  and  adopted  a  tone  of  great  conciliation. 

THIRD    PARLIAMENT 

This  was  the  parliament  in  which  Cromwell  first 
appeared  as  member  for  Huntingdon. 

But  the  friendly  aspect  with  which  this  parliament 
opened,  soon  changed ;  the  commons,  intent  on  having 
their  rights  secured,  first  chastised  the  sycophant  priests 
Mainwaring,  Sibthorpe,  and  others,  and  then  drew  up 


16  OLI  VER     CR  O  M  W  ELL. 

the  famous  ''  Petition  of  Rights."*  This  was  simply  a  bill 
to  guarantee  acknowledged  liberties,  and  check  acknow- 
ledged abuses ;  but  Charles  thought  his  word  was  better 
than  all  guaranties,  and  refused  at  first  to  have  anything 
to  do  with  it.  After  a  stormy  time,  however,  it  passed ; 
and,  wherever  the  joyful  tidings  spread,  bonfires  were 
kindled,  and  bells  rung,  and  the  first  strong  shout  of  vic- 
tory sent  up  by  the  people. 

There  was  one  scene  in  this  parliament  that  must 
have  affected  Cromwell  deeply.  He  had  witnessed  the 
tyranny  of  the  king  and  the  manly  defence  of  the  com- 
mons, and  the  joy  of  the  people,  pointing  significantly 
w^hich  way  the  power  was  tending ;  but  he  was  to  gaze 
on  the  spectacle  of  a  parliament  in  tears.  As  the  House, 
a  short  time  previous  to  the  day  appointed  for  its  disso- 
lution, commenced  investigating  the  conduct  of  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  with  the  intention  of  denouncing 
him  to  the  king  and  people — if  not  by  name  yet  in  real- 
ity,— it  received  a  message  from  Charles,  forbidding 
"  it  to  meddle,  henceforth,  with  matters  of  state."  This 
bold  stroke  of  tyranny  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  on  parlia- 
ment. Sir  John  Elliot  first  arose  and  spoke,  and  soon 
began  to  throw  out  hints  against  Buckingham,  when  the 
speaker  interrupted  him,  saying,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
"  There  is  a  command  laid  upon  me  to  interrupt  any  that 
should  go  about  to  lay  an  aspersion  on  the  ministers  of 
state."     Elliot  sat  down,  and  Sir  Dudley  Digges,  spring- 

*  That  the  reader  may  see  how  reasonable  the  demands  of  parliament 
were,  and  understand  the  basis  of  the  quarrel  between  it  and  the  king, 
we  give  the  "  Petition"  in  full,  in  Appendix  No.  I. 


1628.]  PARLIAMENT     IN     TEARS.  17 

ing  to  his  feet,  exclaimed :  "  Unless  we  may  speak  of 
these  things  in  parliament,  let  us  arise  and  begone,  or  sit 
still  and  do  nothing."  A  solemn  silence  followed  this 
declaration.  At  length,  Nathaniel  Rich  spoke,  followed 
by  Sir  Robert  Phillips,  who  wept  as  he  addressed  the 
House ;  and  after  him  the  stern-hearted  Pym.  Sir  Ed- 
ward Coke,  "  old  Coke  upon  Lyttleton,"  "  the  toughest 
man  that  ever  was  made,  broke  down  in  the  midst 
of  his  speech  and  fell  to  weeping."  Was  there  ever 
such  a  spectacle — a  parliament,  the  noblest  that  ever 
met  in  England,  in  tears?  One  would  give  much  to 
have  looked  on  the  determined  brow  of  Cromwell  then, 
and  seen  how  he  took  this  scene,  and  watched  the 
promptings  of  his  fiery  heart,  as  he  saw  brave  men 
weeping  for  their  country. 

This  sudden  prostration  of  all  hearts  was,  however, 
but  momentary — the  House  passed  from  apathy  to  rage 
— the  speaker  left  the  chair — the  members  sprang  to 
their  feet,  and  for  a  while  nothing  but  clamors  and 
shouts  could  be  heard  Suddenly,  above  the  tumult,  was 
heard  the  name  of  Buckingham,  and  "'Tis  he!  'tis  he!" 
rang  in  excited  accents  over  the  house.  Before  the 
opposition  this  sudden  storm  had  aroused,  the  king  was 
compelled  to  retire,  and  finally  sanctioned  the  petition  of 
rights.  But  reforms  on  paper  began  to  be  followed  by 
demands  for  reform  in  practice,  and  two  remonstrances 
were  drawn  up,  one  against  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
and  the  other  against  having  tonnage  and  poundage 
■duties  levied,  except,  hke  other  taxes,  by  law.  The  king, 
seeing  there  was  no  end  to  this  cry  about  grievances, 


18  OLIVER     CROMWELL, 

lost  all  patience,  and  in  June — three  months  from  the 
time  of  its  assembling,  prorogued  parliament. 

Cromwell  returned  to  his  farm,  to  ponder  on  what  he 
had  seen  and  heard,  while  Charles  recommenced  his 
arbitrary  course. 

DEATH    OF    BUCKINGHAM. 

In  the  meantime,  about  two  months  after  parliament 
broke  up,  Buckingham  was  murdered  by  John  Felton,  a 
former  heutenant  in  his  majesty's  service.  Thus  fell, 
by  the  hand  of  an  assassin,  the  favorite  of  Charles — one 
of  his  chief  supports,  and  the  hated  foe  of  the  people  and 
parhament.  Of  a  handsome  person,  courtly  manners — 
bold,  daring  and  unscrupulous — he  sought  power  only  to 
gratify  his  love  for  magnificent  display  and  the  baser 
passions  of  his  nature.  He  neither  rejoiced  in  the  pros- 
perity of  his  country,  nor  felt  for  its  disasters.  Absorbed 
wholly  in  his  selfish  schemes,  and  capable  of  beholding 
nothing  but  himself  aggrandized,  he  used  his  power  so 
recklessly  that  he  became  a  public  calamity.  Implacable 
in  his  hatred,  fickle  in  his  friendships,  promoting  his 
flatterers  to  places  of  trust,  thinking  more  of  seducing  a 
woman  than  of  carrying  a  great  political  measure ;  gay, 
gallant  and  unprincipled,  his  death  was  a  great  blessing 
to  England.  Formed  to  shine  in  courts,  he  dazzled 
awhile,  and  then  disappeared  from  the  kingdom  he  had 
helped  to  undo.  The  assassin's  knife  saved  him  from 
the  scaffold. 

Ilis  death  exasperated  the  king,  without  teaching  him 


1629.]  FIRST     SPEECH     OF     CROMWELL.  19 

prudence  or  opening  his  eyes  to  the  course  everything 
was  taking.  Instead  of  yielding,  he  seemed  more  intent 
than  ever  on  carrying  through  his  tyrannical  mea- 
sures. He  heaped  favors  on  those  whom  the  parliament 
had  disgraced.  Dr.  Montague  was  created  Bishop  oi 
Chichester  ;  Mainwaring  received  a  rich 'benefice,  while 
Laud  was  promoted  to  the  see  of  London.  Illegal  taxes 
were  levied,  and  the  courts  of  justice  compelled  to  sanc- 
tion them.  Showing,  however,  a  little  more  tact,  he 
surrounded  himself  with  ministers  not  so  obnoxious  to 
the  people.  Wentworth,  one  of  the  most  eloquent  mem- 
bers of  parliament,  and  boldest,  earliest  friend  of  liberty, 
was  seduced  by  the  title  of  baron,  and  a  seat  in  the  privy 
council,  to  the  side  of  the  king.  Proud  and  ambitious, 
he  sacrificed  his  principles  and  obtained  his  reward — 
viz.  power,  greatness,  and  eventually  the  scaffold. 

FOURTH    SESSION    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

The  king,  feehng  strong  with  his  new  council  about 
him,  again  assembled  parliament,  Jan.  20,  1629.  This 
was  a  short  session,  but  important,  if  for  nothing  else, 
in  being  the  first  in  which  Cromwell  attempted  to  speak. 
He  accused  Dr.  Alabaster  of  having  preached  "flat 
popery"  at  St.  Paul's  Cross ;  and  that,  too,  in  obedience 
to  th6  Bishop  of  Winchester.  "  Mainwaring,  too,"  he 
said,  '■'  so  lately  punished  by  parliament  for  his  sermons, 
has  been  recently,  within  a  month,  preferred  to  a  rich  liv- 
ing, by  this  same  bishop.     If  these,''  he  exclaimed,  ''are 


20  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

the  steps  to  church  preferment,  what  mail  we  not  ex- 
pect V 

Soon  after  the  meeting  of  parliament,  it  discovered, 
with  indignation  and  disgust,  that  the  king  had  ordered  - 
liis  printer  to  aUer  the  answer  he  had  given  the  petition 
of  rights,  so  that  it  had  gone  forth  a  falsehood.  Letting 
this  pass,  however,  in  silent  contempt,  it  again  took  up 
the  subject  of  grievances.  Reforms,  both  in  religious 
and  civil  matters,  were  loudly  demanded,  and  at  length 
the  tonnage  and  poundage  duties  came  up.  A  second 
remonstrance  was  about  to  be  carried,  when  the  speaker 
informed  the  house  that  the  king  had  ordered  him  not 
to  put  the  motion ;  and  rose  to  retire.  "  God's  wounds !" 
exclaimed  the  fierce  Holies;  " ijou  shall  sit  till  it  please 
the  House  to  rise."  The  king,  hearing  of  the  outbreak, 
sent  the  sergeant-at-arms  to  remove  the  mace,  and  thus 
arrest  all  proceedings.  But  he,  too,  was  kept  firmly 
seated,  and  the  doors  of  the  house  were  locked.  A  se- 
cond messenger  came  to  dissolve  the  parliament,  but 
could  not  gain  admission.  Boiling  with  rage,  at  being 
thus  defied  on  his  very  throne,  Charles  called  the  cap- 
tain of  his  guards  and  ordered  him  to  force  the  doors. 
But  the  vote,  in  the  meantime,  had  been  carried  by  ac- 
clamation. Armenianism  and  papacy  stood  denounced 
before  the  world ;  the  levying  of  tonnage  and  poundage 
was  declared  illegal,  and  those  pronounced  guilty  of  high 
treason  who  should  levy  or  even  pay  them.  Parhament, 
of  course,  was  dissolved.* 

Charles,  now  firmly  resolved  to  govern  alone,  com- 

•  lOth  of  March. 


PERSECUTION  OF  THE  PURITANS.      21 

menced  a  course  of  tyranny  never  practised  before  by 
the  most  despotic  monarch  of  England.  First,  to  reheve 
himself  from  the  financial  pressure  which  had  forced 
him  so  frequently  to  convoke  parliament,  he  concluded 
a  peace  with  France  and  Spain.  The  high-handed 
measures  which  he  immediately  adopted  against  the 
patriots  caused  at  first  a  great  sensation ;  but  parliament 
being  dissolved  there  was  nothing  around  which  the 
public  indignation  could  gather  and  concentrate,  and  so, 
the  murmurs  of  the  disaffected  became  so  many  feeble, 
isolated  voices,  while  the  complaints  of  some  were 
hushed  in  the  cells  of  a  prison ;  where  many,  and  among 
them  the  noble  patriot  and  martyr.  Sir  John  Elliot, 
eventually  died. 

The  church,  too,  came  in  for  its  share  of  power.  It 
became  concentrated  in  the  hands  of  the  bishops — the 
observance  of  the  liturgy  and  cathedral  rights  was  en- 
forced, and  non-conformists,  turned  out  of  their  Hvings 
and  forbidden  to  preach,  were  sent  wandering  over  the 
countrv. 


PERSECUTION    OF    THE    PURITANS. 

Persecution  commenced ;  a  system  of  espionage  was 
carried  on,  and  a  petty  tyranny  practised,  by  that  heart- 
less and  bigotted  prelate.  Laud.  Men  were  put  in  the 
stocks  for  circulating  pamphlets  that  denounced  the 
injustice  of  the  times,  and  their  ears  cropped  off  in 
presence  of  the  people.  They  were  forbidden  to  write, 
to  preach,  or  even  talk  <  C  those  questions  of  conscience 


*22  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  VV  ELL. 


which  agitated  the  kingdom.  A  single  unguarded  sen- 
tence against  the  nobihty  would  hurry  men  to  the  star- 
chamber,  the  chief  business  of  which  was  to  protect 
the  rank  and  privileges  of  the  former,  while  the  court 
of  High  Commission  was  as  vindictive  and  unscrupu- 
lous, if  not  so  cruel,  as  the  inquisition  of  Rome.  The 
guilt  or  innocence  of  the  offending  party  was  of  very  lit- 
tle consequence,  he  was  punished  with  fines,  which  went 
into  the  pockets  of  the  king  and  his  nobility ;  or  with 
imprisonment,  or  both. 

Laud,  as  ambitious  and  fanatical  in  church  matters 
as  Charles  was  in  political,  bent  all  his  energies  to  destroy 
liberty  of  conscience.  Not  content  with  turning  non- 
conformists out  of  their  livings,  he  stooped  to  personal 
and  vindictive  persecution.  A  Mr.  Workman  had  said 
that  pictures  and  ornaments  in  churches  were  a  relic  of 
idolatry.  For  this  unlucky  speech  he  was  thrown  into 
prison,  and  the  mayor  and  municipal  officers  of  Glouces- 
ter, who  had  formerly  settled  on  him  twenty  pounds  a 
year,  were  fined  for  their  kindness.  When  the  term  of 
imprisonment  expired,  Mr.  Vv^orkman,  thrown  upon  the 
world  without  the  means  of  subsistence,  opened  a  little 
school.  Laud  ordered  it  to  be  closed.  The  poor  and 
hunted  man  then  turned  doctor — Laud  commanded,  on 
pain  of  heavy  penalties,  that  no  one  should  buy  his 
medicine.  Driven  out  of  every  means  of  subsistence  by 
this  bishop,  the  poor  clergyman  went  mad  and  died.* 

It  would  be  useless  to  mention  all  the  instances  of  the 
unjust  persecution  and  petty  revenge  of  this  unscrupulous 
prelate.     Although  a  stern  defender  of  royal  prerogative 

•  Vide  Neal. 


LAUD.  23 

when  the  people  or  parliament  was  concerned,  he  nev- 
ertheless unhesitatingly  assumed  the  independence  of 
the  church,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  proclaim  the 
divine  right  of  bishops.  They  held  their  courts  no 
longer  in  the  name  of  the  king,  but  in  their  own  name, 
and  affixed  only  the  episcopal  seal  to  their  acts.  Not 
content  with  this,  Laud  grasped  after  the  civil  power, 
persuading  Charles  to  fill  places  of  trust  in  the  state  with 
church  dignitaries ;  until  at  last  Bishop  Juxon  was  made 
High  Treasurer.  In  the  church  he  innovated,  with  the 
same  high  hand,  on  established  forms  and  ceremonies. 
Not  only  did  he  have  the  audacity  to  alter  the  interna] 
arrangements  of  churches  and  customary  forms  of  w^or- 
ship  long  considered  sacred,  but  went  so  far  as  to  change 
the  Liturgy  itself,  prescribed  by  parliament,  and  hitherto 
considered  binding  on  the  nation.*  Conscientiously  and 
sensitively  alive  to  any  encroachment  on  regal  power,  by 
the  representatives  of  the  people  in  parliament  assembled, 
he  pushed  his  own  encroachments  so  boldly,  that  a  king 
less  imbecile  than  Charles  w^ould  have  taken  fire  at  the 
audacity  they  exhibited.  So  rapidly  and  far  did  he  carry 
everything  in  the  church  tow^ards  papacy,  that  the  Pope 
of  Rome  offered  him  a  cardinal's  hat.  A  daughter  of 
the  Duke  of  Devonshire  having  turned  Catholic,  Laud 
asked  her  the  reason  of  her  conduct.  "Chiefly,"  said 
she,  "  because  I  hate  to  travel  in  a  crowd :  I  perceive 
your  Grace  and  many  others  are  making  haste  to  Rome ; 
and  therefore,  in  order  to  prevent  my  being  crowded,  I 
have  gone  belbre  you."t 

*  Neal,  III.,  209.  f  Vide  Hume. 


24  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  iM  VV  E  L  L  . 

Persecuted,  fined  and  trampled  on  by  the  king  and 
his  bishops,  the  people  leTt  in  such  crowds  for  Holland, 
and  thence  for  America,  and  carried  so  much  wealth  out 
of  the  kingdom,  that  the  court  at  length  became  alarm- 
ed, and  passed  an  ordinance.  May  1,  1637,  forbidding 
emigration.  Eight  ships  were  lying  in  the  Thames  at 
the  time,  ready  to  depart ;  on  board  of  which  it  is  said, 
were  Pym,  Haselrig,  Hampden,  and  Cromwell. 

Nine  years  had  now  passed  since  Cromwell  made 
his  first  speech  in  parliament.  During  this  time  he  had 
lived  on  his  farm,  watching,  one  may  guess  with  what 
feelings,  the  unblushing  and  unscrupulous  tyranny  of  the 
king  and  bishops.  A  zealous  Puritan,  he  scorned  to 
yield  to  the  injustice  of  the  times,  and  so  resolved  to 
bury  himself  in  our  western  wilderness,  where  he  could 
at  least  worship  his  God  in  freedom.  One  would  be  glad 
to  know  of  his  interviews  with  Haselrig,  Pym,  and 
Hampden — of  what  and  how  they  talked ;  and  thus  get 
an  insight  into  the  character  of  these  men  before  the 
great  struggle  commences.  But  this  portion  of  his 
career  is  wrapt  in  obscurity ;  and  the  sober,  meditative 
farmer  is  passing  the  meridian  of  his  life,  while  events 
are  slowly  moving  to  a  consummation  that  even  the 
most  hopeful  do  not  dream  of 

In  the  meantime,  Strafford,  who  had  been  appointed 
over  Ireland,  was  ruling  that  unhappy  country  with  a 
rod  of  iron.  By  a  system  of  pillage  and  extortion,  which 
rivalled  even  that  of  his  master,  he  contrived  to  make 
that  island,  which  had  hitherto  been  a  bill  of  expense,  a 
source  of  revenue  to  the  crown.     Do  what  he  would,  a 


THEPURITANS.  25 

sum  of  money  could  buy  the  king's  pardon ;  indeed,  if 
of  sufficient  amount,  could  buy  that  of  almost  any  man. 
Under  this  systematic  tyranny  of  the  king  and  bishops, 
the  elements  which  for  years  had  seemed  to  settle  them- 
selves into  obedience,  now  began  to  move  again. 

LIFE    OF    THE    PURITANS. 

The  persecutions  of  Laud,  as  all  persecutions  do,  soon 
brought  to  light  those  who  were  willing  to  be  martyrs. 
Though  turned  out  of  their  livings  and  forbidden  to 
preach,  the  faithful  pastors  still  found  means  to  instruct 
the  people.  In  cellars,  in  barns,  in  the  depths  of  the  for- 
ests, they  met  and  discussed  those  great  questions  of  con- 
science for  which  it  became  them,  if  necessary,  to  lay 
down  their  lives.  Their  situation  as  hunted  fugitives — 
the  forlorn  and  solitary  places  in  which  they  met — the 
danger  that  surrounded  them,  and  the  indignation^  arous- 
ed bv  the  injustice  of  their  oppressors,  conspired  to  in- 
flame their  imaginations  and  excite  their  enthusiasm. 
Clothed  in  black,  with  their  hair  cropped  short,  they  took 
pleasure  in  marking  themselves  out  as  proscribed  men. 
Incensed  at  their  proud  and  stubborn  resistance,  and  its 
inability  to  check  the  circulation  of  pamphlets  reflecting 
harshly  on  the  king  and  bishops,  the  court  caused  three  of 
them,  Prynne,  Burton,  and  Bostwick,  to  be  arrested  and 
tried  before  the  star  chamber.  No  barrister  would  un- 
dertake their  cause,  and  they  were  refused  permission  to 
defend  themselves ;  and  so,  after  being  insulted,  were  con- 
demned to  the  pillory, — to  lose  their  ears,  pay  £5000, 
2 


26  OLIVERCROMWELL. 

and  suffer  perpetual  imprisonment.  Prynne  had  lost  his 
ears  before  for  a  similar  offence,  and  now  the  stumps 
were  again  sawed  off.  Crowds  assembled  to  witness  the 
execution  of  this  villainous  sentence,  whom  the  victims 
addressed  with  words  of  encouragement.  Six  months 
after,  Lilburn  lost  his  ears  for  the  same  offence,  and  tied 
to  a  cart's  tail,  was  whipped  through  the  pubHc  streets  of 
Westminster ;  but  exhorted  the  people,  in  the  midst  of 
his  sufferings.  Scorning  the  repeated  commands  to 
stop,  he  was  gagged — still  resolute,  he  drew  forth  the 
seditious  pamphlets  from  his  pockets,  and  while  the  lash 
was  falling  on  his  back,  distributed  them  to  the  crowd. 

The  opposition,  which  had  been  mostly  among  the 
lower  classes,  now  began  to  animate  those  of  higher 
rank.  John  Hampden,  Cromwell's  cousin,  a  gentleman 
of  large  fortune,  unimpeachable  integrity,  calm,  prudent, 
and  respectful  to  his  king,  refused  to  pay  the  ship-money 
levied  on  him,  though  it  amounted  to  only  twenty  shil- 
lings. HuiTied  away  to  prison,  he  showed  no  passion, 
but  calmly  said  it  was  as  much  for  the  interest  of  the 
king  as  for  himself  and  country,  that  the  legality  of  the 
tax  should  be  decided  by  the  highest  judicial  tribunal  of 
the  -land.  He  was  tried,  and  though  the  law  was  clearly 
on  his  side,  the  judges  overawed  by  Charles,  dared  not 
decide  in  his  favor.  The  people,  however,  took  courage 
as  they  saw  the  gentry  resisting  the  king,  and  Hamp- 
den's name  was  in  every  one's  mouth. 


1627.]  THE     LITURGY     IN    SCOTLAND.  27 


LAUD  S    LITURGY    RAISES    A    STORM    IN    SCOTLAND. 

During  this  same  year,  Charles,  at  the  instigation  ot 
Laud,  undertook  to  force  the  liturgy  reformed  by  this 
audacious  prelate,  down  the  throats  of  the  sturdy 
Scotch  Calvinists,  which  raised  a  whirlwind  in  Scot- 
land. The  most  intense  excitement  followed  the 
movement;  and  the  next  year  (Oct.  18,  1637),  at  the 
introduction  of  this  new  liturgy  into  Edinburgh  Ca- 
thedral, the  town  was  besieged  by  the  multitude  that 
had  flocked  thither  to  resist  so  high-handed  an  inno- 
vation of  their  religious  rights.  Ordered  to  return 
home,  they  assembled  again  in  November,  and  sent 
their  petitions  to  the  king.  At  length,  the  next  year 
(Feb.  19th),  the  proclamation  of  Charles,  enforcing  the 
Hturgy  and  forbidding  the  petitioners  to  assemble  under 
penalty  of  high  treason,  gave  the  finishing  blow.  In  a 
moment,  Edinburgh  was  in  a  blaze — the  excited  crowds, 
aroused  from  every  part  of  the  country,  thronged 
through  the  streets — highlander  and  lowlander,  noble  and 
commoner,  struck  hands  together,  and  old  Scotland  stood 
up  in  her  might,  with  her  solemn  "  Covenant"  in  her 
hand,  and  swore  to  defend  it  to  the  last.  The  fiery 
cross  went  flashing  along  the  glens,  through  the  valleys, 
and  over  the  mountains,  and  in  six  weeks  Scotland  was 
ready  to  do  battle  for  her  rights.  Charles  was  fright- 
ened at  the  spirit  he  had  raised,  and  strove  to  allay  it 
by. falsehood;  and  failing  in  this,  marched  his  armies 
against  the  Covenanters.     Having  arrived  at  Newcas- 


38  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

tie,  he  found  a  superior  army  encamped  at  Dunse- 
law,  ready  to  meet  him,  commanded  by  Lesley ;  while, 
attached  to  every  colonel's  tent,  v^as  this  pennon,  flying, 
"  For  Christ's  Crown  and  Covenant."  The  king  retired, 
the  two  armies  separated,  and  the  quarrel,  was  appa- 
rently settled,  though  in  fact,  only  deferred. 

While  these  things  were  passing  in  Scotland,  Crom- 
well continued  on  his  farm,  and  in  1638,  we  find  him 
taking  an  active  part  in  measures  set  on  foot  for  the 
drainage  of  the  fens  in  his  district. 

This  whole  affair  is  wrapt  in  obscurity.  Thus  much 
only  is  known,  that  he  took  sides  with  the  people  against 
an  act  of  injustice  which  the  king  and  his  commis- 
sioners endeavored  to  enforce.*  By  his  energy,  fear- 
lessness and  resolution  he  succeeded,  and  became  so 
popular  in  that  region  that  he  was  called  "  Lord  of  the 
Fens."  What  his  future  plans  were  is  not  known,  for 
the  momentous  public  events  that  soon  engrossed  the 

*  The  sum  of  the  matter  seems  to  be,  that  a  plan  had  been  form- 
ed, by  the  Earl  of  Bedford  and  other  noblemen,  to  carrj  the  Ouse  some 
twenty  miles  in  a  straight  course  to  the  sea,  and  thus  drain  millions  of 
acres  which  it  then,  in  its  tortuous  course,  overflowed.  Some  400,000 
acres  had  already  been  reduced  by  that  part  called  Bedford  Level,  when 
the  funds  gave  out,  and  the  aid  of  the  crown  was  sought  to  enable  them 
to  carry  out  the  project,  for  which  a  certain  proportion  of  the  land 
was  to  be  given.  But  no  sooner  had  the  King  become  a  partner  in 
the  business  than  he  sent  commissioners  to  try  claims — in  short, 
endeavored  to  enrich  himself  at  the  cost  of  the  poor  inhabitants  of  that 
region.  Meetings  were  held,  remonstrances  made,  yet  victory  seemed 
hopeless,  until  Cromwell  interfered,  and  by  his  boldness,  daring  and 
energy  drove  the  commissioners  and  everybody  else  away.  The 
work  was  never  resum.ed  until  after  the  war. 


1638,]  LETTER     FROM     CROMWELL.  29 

attention  of  every  one,  put  a  stop  to  all  internal  im- 
provements. During  this  period,  however,  he  was 
distinguished  for  his  religious  enthusiasm.  He  kept 
days  of  fasting  and  prayer,  and  evening  and  morning 
knelt,  with  his  vv^orkmen  by  his  side,  and  poured  forth 
his  earnest  supplications  to  heaven. 

His  health,  how^ever,  suffered  under  the  climate  of  St. 
Ives  and  his  terrible  mental  excitement  combined,  and 
his  appearance  in  church  on  Sundays,  with  his  pallid, 
solemn  face  and  a  red  flannel  tied  around  his  neck,  v/as 
long  remembered  by  the  inha-bitants.  Of  incorruptible 
integrity — charitable  and  kind  to  the  poor  and  oppressed 
■ — fervent  in  prayer,  solemn,  watchful,  resolute  and 
enthusiastic,  he  acquired  unbounded  influence  over 
those  w^ho  knev/  him,  and  already  represented  in  himself 
the  elements  of  that  army  whose  battle  shout  afterwards 
made  the  world  tremble. 

We  do  not  design  to  give  many  of  Cromv/eil's  letters, 
but  the  following,  wTitten  during  this  year  to  his  cousin, 
who  had  married  Oliver  St.  John,  a  widower,  the  cele- 
brated barrister  Avho  defended  Hampden  so  nobly  in 
his  ship-money  trial,  exposes  Cromwell's  religious  char- 
acter so  fully,  that  it  is  worthy  especial  notice.  At 
this  time  he  was  a  simple  farmer — one  of  the  disgraced 
and  persecuted  non-conformists — with  every  worldly 
motive  against  his  expressing  his  rehgious  belief — and 
hence,  however  true  the  charge  of  cant  may  be,  that  of 
hypocrisy  is  too  absurd  to  be  entertained  for  a  moment. 
That  as  a  private  man — never  anticipating  public  noto- 
riety, and  writing  a  private  letter  to  a  female  cousin,  he 


30  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  K  O  M  VV  E  L  L  . 

assumed  a  religious  sensibility,  and  spoke  of  religious 
things  except  as  he  felt  them,  no  man  of  just  mind  will 
believe. 


"  To  my  beloved  Cousin  Mrs.  St.  John,  at  Sir  William  Masham  fits 
House  called  Otes,  in  Essex:  Present  these. 

"Ely,  ISth  October,  1638. 

"  Dear  Cousin — I  thankfully  acknowledge  your  love  in  your 
kind  remembrance  of  me  upon  this  opportunity.  Alas,  you  do  too 
highly  prize  my  lines  and  my  company.  I  may  be  ashamed  to 
own  your  expressions,  considering  how  unprofitable  I  am,  and  the 
mean  improvement  of  my  talent. 

"Yet  to  honor  my  God  by  declaring  what  He  hath  done  for  my 
soul,  in  this  I  am  confident,  and  I  will  be  so.  Truly,  then,  this  I 
find :  That  He  giveth  springs  in  a  dry  barren  wilderness  where  no 
Avater  is.  I  live,  you  know  where — in  Meshec,  which  they  say 
signifies P?-o/ongmg;  in  Kedar,  which  signifies  Blackness;  yet  the 
Lord  forsaketh  me  not.  Though  He  do  prolong,  yet  He  will,  I 
trust,  bring  me  to  His  Tabernacle,  to  His  resting-place.  My  soul 
is  with  the  Congregation  of  the  First-born,  my  body  rests  in  hope  : 
and  if  here  I  may  honor  my  God  either  by  doing  or  suffering,  T 
shall  be  most  glad. 

"  Truly  no  poor  creature  hath  more  cause  to  put  himself  forth  in 
the  cause  of  his  God  than  I.  I  have  had  plentiful  wages  before- 
hand ;  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  never  earn  the  least  mite.  The  Lord 
accept  me  in  His  Son^  and  give  me  to  walk  in  the  light — and  give 
us  to  w^alk  in  the  light,  as  He  is  the  light !  He  it  is  that  enlight- 
ened our  blackness,  our  darkness.  I  dare  not  say.  He  hideth  His 
face  from  me.  He  giveth  me  to  see  light  in  His  light.  One  beam 
in  a  dark  place  hath  exceeding  much  refreshment  in  it : — blessed 
be  His  name  for  shining  on  so  dark  a  heart  as  mine  !  You  know 
what  my  manner  of  life  hath  been.     Oh,  I  lived  in  and  loved  dark- 


1638.]  THIRD     PARLIAiMENT.  31 

ness,  and  hated  Jight;  I  was  a  chief,  the  chief  of  sinners.  This 
is  true  :  1  hated  godliness,  yet  God  had  mercy  on  me.  0  the 
riches  of  His  mercy !  Praise  Him  for  me  ;  pray  for  me,  that  He 
who  hath  hegim  a  good  work  would  perfect  it  in  the  day  of  Christ. 

"  Salute  all  my  friends  in  that  Family  whereof  you  are  yet  a  mem- 
ber. I  am  much  bound  unto  them  for  their  love.  I  bless  the  Lord 
for  them;  and  that  my  Son,  by  their  procurement,  is  so  well. 
Let  him  have  your  prayers,  your  counsel ;  let  me  have  them. 

"Salute  your  husband  and  sister  from  me  : — He  is  not  a  man 
of  his  word  !  He  promised  to  write  about  Mr.  Wrath  of  Epping ; 
bnt  as  yet  I  receive  no  letters  : — put  him  in  mind  to  do  what 
with  conveniency  may  be  done  for  the  poor  Cousin  I  did  solicit 
him  about. 

"  Once  more  farewell.     The  Lord  be  with  you  :  so  prayeth 
"  Your  truly  loving  cousin, 

"Oliver  Cromwell." 


What  a  flood  of  light  does  this  letter  throw  upon  his 
character  at  this  time.  Absorbed  in  the  contemplation 
of  religious  things,  with  the  glory  of  heaven  on  one  side, 
and  the  "blackness  of  darkness"  on  the  other — angels 
and  fiends  beckoning  him  by  turns — the  shouts  of  "  the 
congregation  of  the  first-born,"  and  the  sad  lament  of 
the  dwellers  of  Mesiiec,  alternately  falling  on  his  excited 
ear — now  looking  into  the  abodes  of  light,  and  now  gaz- 
mg  steadfastly  into  the  deep  abyss  of  the  pit  of  despair — 
his  strong  intellect  is  shaken  to  its  foundation,  and 
nothing  but  a  life  of  action,  giving  vent  to  his  pent-up 
excitement,  can  save  him  from  the  gloomiest  fanaticism. 
Swayed  by  one  master  passion,  he  is  undergoing  a  fear- 
ful preparation  for  the  scenes  before  him.     The  elegant 


32  OLIVERCROMWELL.  ' 

Hampden,  the  astute  St.  John,  the  firm  Bradshaw 
and  crafty  Vane,  nay,  all  England  are  yet  to  bend  before 
this  soul  of  fire.  Fearless  of  consequences,  ready  to 
suffer  martyrdom — indeed,  ready  for  anything  at  the  call 
of  his  Great  Master,  he  stands  on  the  threshhold  of  this 
long  struggle,  resolved  to  bear  himself  like  a  man,  a 
Christian,  and  a  hero.  This  letter  shows  in  every  line 
of  it  the  most  perfect  sincerity.  That  passage  in  which 
he  speaks  of  himself  as  the  chief  of  sinners,  has  been 
adduced  as  proof  that  he  formerly  led  a  dissolute  Hfe ; 
wdiile  it  evidently  is  meant  only  to  express  his  sense  of 
the  deep  sinfulness  of  his  heart  in  an  unconverted  state. 
He  is  full  of  that  dread  eternity,  on  the  vast  concerns 
of  which  he  is  ever  gazing,  and  struggling  after  the 
periect  freedom  of  the  '"'sons  of  God."  Whatever 
he  may  become  in  after  life,  he  is  now  a  true-hearted 
Puiitan,  with  all  the  peculiar  views  of  conviction,  re- 
generation, and  a  spiritual  life,  of  that  sect;  and  is 
strtaning  forward  "  towards  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the 
high  calling."  Wars  and  rumors  of  w^ars  are  borne  to 
his  ears — the  land  is  filled  with  corruption,  oppression 
and  complaints,  and  old  England  is  surging  to  and  fro, 
like  the  sea  before  a  storm.  Across  the  blackness  of 
the  political  horizon  he  can  see  no  dawning  light ;  and 
vainly  seeking  to  abandon  the  home  of  his  childhood 
and  the  land  of  his  birth,  that  he  may  serve  his  God  and 
win  heaven,  he  has  at  length  settled  down  with  the  firm 
resolution  to  suffer  shame,  reproach  and  persecution. 
Call  him  self-deluded,  superstitious,  fanatical,  if  you  will, 
but  honest  he  certainlv  is. 


CHAPTER  II. 

FROM    THE    LONG    PARLIAMENT    TO     THE    FIRST    CIVIL    WAR 

1640—1642. 

Short  Parliament — Second  Invasion  of  Scotland — Meeting  of  the  Long 
Parliament — Its  Stern  Aspect — Impeachment  of  Laud — Trial  and 
Death  oi  Strafford — His  Character — Personal  Appearance  of  Crom- 
well— Appointed  on  a  Private  Committee — Defends  the  Poor — The 
King  Visits  Scotland — Grand  Petition  and  Remonstrance — Stormy 
Debate  upon  It — Cromwell's  View  of  It — Withdrawal  of  the  Bish- 
ops— Their  Impeachment — Attempt  to  Seize  the  Five  Members — 
Excitement  Caused  by  It — The  King  Leaves  Whitehall  never  to 
Return  except  as  a  Prisoner — Recapitulation — Cromwell  a  Patriot. 

Charles  at  length  exhausted  all  the  means  which 
unscrupulous  tyranny  could  devise,  but  his  treasury  was 
still  empty ;  and  as  a  last  resort,  he  resolved  to  call  a 
new  parliament,  in  order  to  obtain  money  with  which 
to  raise  another  army  to  subdue  the  Scots.  It  met 
April  16,  1640.  He  had  got  along  eleven  years  with- 
out a  parliament,  but  was  now  fairly  driven  to  the 
w^all. 

But  during  these  eleven  years  the  commons  had  not 
forgotten  grievances ;  and  when  the  king  asked  for  sup- 
plies, he  received  in  reply  "grievances."  Nothing  could 
be  done  with  a  parliament  that  talked  only  of  griev- 
ances, and  in  three  weeks  it  was  dissolved.  Money  be- 
2* 


34  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

ing  raised  by  other  means,  an  army  was  equipped  and 
marched  to  the  Scottish  borders,  to  force  the  inhabitants 
to  swallow  Laud's  liturgy.  He  was  compelled,  how^ever, 
to  retreat  before  the  Scotch  forces  under  Lesley,  who, 
crossing  the  Tweed,  seemed  resolved  to  seek  redress  at 
the  foot  of  the  throne  itself  Finding  himself  still  deeper 
involved,  he  again  convoked  parliament  in  November, 
for  the  double  purpose  of  making  a  treaty  with  the  vic- 
torious Scots  and  of  relieving  the  finances  of  the 
kingdom. 

This  was  the  famous  Long  Parliament.  Exasperated 
at  its  last  dissolution — enraged  at  the  falsehoods  and 
tyranny  of  the  king,  and  perceiving  at  last  that  he,  with 
his  favorites.  Bishop  Laud  and  the  Earl  of  Strafford, 
were  bent  on  breaking  down  the  constitution  of  England 
— it  met  with  the  stern  purpose  of  taking  the  manage- 
ment of  affairs  into  its  own  hands.  The  king  saw,  at  a 
glance,  that  he  had  got  to  retreat,  or  close  in  a  mortal 
struggle  with  his  parliament.  The  respect  showed  him 
at  his  opening  speech,  was  cold  and  even  haughty.  The 
proud  determination  that  sat  on  the  countenances  of  the 
members  awed  even  the  monarch ;  and  the  fierce  indig- 
nation which  broke  forth  at  his  departure,  told  his  friends 
that  a  crisis  had  come.  Every  member  had  some  peti- 
tion from  his  constituents  to  offer,  and  the  eleven  years 
of  arbitrary  rule  he  had  tried,  and  was  now  compelled  to 
abandon,  received  a  terrible  review.  Monopolies,  ship- 
money,  illegal  arrests,  the  despotism  of  the  bishops,  and 
the  action  of  arbitrary  courts,  came  up  in  rapid  succes- 
sion, each  adding  to  the  torrent  of  indignation  that  was 


1641.]  TRIAL     OF     STRAFFORD.  35 

about  to  roll  on  the  throne.  One  of  the  first  acts  of  this 
parliament  was,  to  declare  every  member  of  it  who  had 
taken  part  in  any  monopoly,  unworthy  of  his  place,  and 
four  were  immediately  excluded.  This  decision  fell 
like  a  thunderbolt  on  the  king  and  his  party,  and  filled 
the  people  with  unbounded  joy.  The  unscrupulous 
agents  of  the  government — despotic  bishops,  corrupt 
judges,  and  even  ministers  of  state — were  struck  dumb 
by  the  boldness  of  the  attitude  assumed.  The  people 
saw  that  the  tide  had  turned,  and  were  animated  with 
the  liveliest  hopes.  Presbyterian  preachers  resumed 
their  livings — suppressed  pamphlets  were  again  sent 
abroad  on  the  wings  of  the  wind — church  despotism 
dared  not  wag  its  head ;  and  yet,  no  legal  steps  had  been 
taken  to  produce  the  change.  It  was  simply  the  moral 
effect  of  the  firmness  of  parliament ;  the  people  felt  that 
it  was  on  their  side,  and  took  confidence  in  resisting 
oppression,  while  those  who  had  made  them  suffer,  be- 
gan to  fear  that  the  chalice  they  had  pressed  so  cruelly 
to  the  lips  of  others,  they  might  in  turn  be  forced  to 
drink. 

TRIAL    AND    DEATH    OF    STRAFFORD. 

Strafford,  who  was  with  the  remains  of  the  army 
that  had  retired  before  the  Scotch,  was  summoned  by 
Charles  to  London.  Foreseeing  the  storm  that  was 
about  to  burst  on  him,  as  the  chief  counsellor  of  his  king, 
he  besought  that  he  might  keep  aloof  Charles,  however, 
promised  to  protect  him  at  all  hazards,  and  the  earl  find- 


36  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

ing  no  way  of  escape,  boldly  threw  himself  amid  his 
enemies,  resolving  to  forestall  them  by  impeaching  some 
of  the  leaders  of  parliament  as  aiders  and  abettors  of  the 
Scotch  invasion.  Pym  and  his  friends,  however,  antici- 
pated him,  and  suddenly  accused  him  of  high  treason. 
The  House  of  Lords  sustained  the  impeachment,  and 
the  haughty  minister  was  sent  to  the  Tower.  The  next 
blow  fell  on  Archbishop  Laud ;  and  he,  too,  was  com- 
pelled to  taste  the  pleasures  of  imprisonment,  which  he 
had  bestowed  so  lavishly  on  others.  Things  began  to 
look  significant — the  head  of  civil  oppression,  and  the 
leader  of  religious  despotism  were  both  struck,  within  a 
short  time  of  each  other,  and  the  character  of  the  com- 
ing revolution  clearly  pronounced.    - 

The  next  step  was  still  more  significant.  A  bill  was 
passed,  making  it  necessary  that  a  parliament  should 
assemble  at  least  once  in  three  years,  and  not  be  dis- 
solved until  fifty  days  after  meeting.  The  king,  though 
filled  with  rage,  was  compelled  to  sanction  it. 

The  trial  of  Strafford  immediately  followed,  lasting 
seventeen  days.  This  unprincipled  but  gifted  states- 
man defended  himself  with  all  the  ability  which  had 
marked  his  political  course.  But  his  eloquence  and  his 
arguments  were  alike  unavailing.  His  death  was  re- 
solved upon — the  parliament,  the  people,  and  the  w^elfare 
of  the  nation  demanded  it.  Still  his  learning  and 
genius  might  have  saved  him,  had  not  Sir  Arthur  Has- 
selrig,  by  a  bold  stroke,  relieved  the  judges  from  the  re- 
sponsibihty  under  which  they  vrere  placed.  He  moved 
a  bill  of  attainder,  by  which  Strafford  was  declared  guilty 


1641.]  STRAFFORD     CONDEMNED.  37 

by  act  of  parliament.  From  that  moment,  the  fate  of 
the  unfortunate  earl  was  sealed.  He  struggled  nobly, 
but  he  fell  at  last.  Sentence  of  death  was  pronounced 
upon  him,  and  it  needed  but  the  royal  signature  to  se- 
cure its  immediate  execution.  Charles  delayed  and 
deferred,  and  sought,  by  every  means,  to  save  his  favo- 
rite. He  had  given  his  royal  woi«d  to  Strafford,  that  if 
he  obeyed  his  summons  and  came  amid  his  enemies, 
that  he  would  protect  him  from  all  harm.  Alas,  for 
his  honor!  fear  for  his  own  safety  and  that  of  his 
throne,  overcame  his  scruples,  and  he  signed  the  death- 
warrant.  No  wonder  that  Strafford  when  he  heard  of  it 
said — " Put  not  your  trust  in  princes''  We  will  not 
argue  the  naked  question  of  guilt  or  innocence  with 
respect  to  the  charge  of  high  treason,  for  in  fact  the 
trial  did  not  turn  on  that.  There  is  no  doubt  that  he, 
with  Charles,  conspired  to  overturn  the  liberties  of  the 
people,  and  by  fraud  and  force  destroy  the  very  laws 
on  which  they  rested.  Of  the  system  of  tyranny  which 
looked  to  this  result,  Strafford  was  the  soul  and  energy. 
One  of  the  first  and  ablest  friends  of  liberty,  he  had  be- 
come an  apostate ;  and  shielded  by  no  prejudice,  blinded 
by  n%  false  notions  X)f  royal  prerogative,  boldly  and 
steadily  advanced  to  the  work  of  ruin  he  had  planned. 
SelKng  his  conscience  and  honor  for  a  title,  he  bent  all 
his  vast  energies  to  the  destruction  of  those  whom  he 
had  betrayed.  Injustice,  cruelty  and  suffering  had  also 
been  inflicted  by  him.  In  Ireland  he  had  trampled  on 
•the  courts  of  justice,  extorted  enormous  fines  from  the 
Irish  nobility,  and  ruled  with  a  rod  of  iron.     Thus,  in 


38  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

both  islands,  he  had  become  a  hated  tyrant,  and  his  death 
seemed  indispensable  to  the  welfare  of  the  realm.  So 
long  as  he,  with  his  all-grasping  mind  and  great  energy, 
stood  by  the  king,  there  was  no  hope  for  England.  The 
public  good  demanded  his  overthrow,  and  it  was  in  fact 
before  this  stern  demand  that  he  fell.  By  his  apostasy, 
his  tyranny,  his  injustice,  his  treasonable  plans  for  the 
subversion  of  English  liberty,  he  deserved  to  die.  At 
all  events,  if  he  did  not,  then  is  Charles  doubly  damned 
— first,  for  violating  his  kingly  promise,  that  he  should 
not  be  injured,  and  second,  for  signing  the  death-war- 
rant of  a  friend  who  was  innocent  of  the  crimes  alleged 
against  him.  How  those  who  assail  the  parliament  for 
condemning  Strafford  can  attempt  to  exculpate  Charles 
seems  strange  enough,  yet  so  it  is. 

With  transcendent  ability  Strafford  w^as  nevertheless  a 
base  man.  Traitor  first,  a  tyrant  afterwards,  his  "  vault- 
ing ambition"  at  length  "  o'erleaped  itself."  His  career, 
though  dazzling  and  lofty,  w^as  stained  in  every  part  by 
some  crime.  To  say  nothing  of  his  robberies  and  ex- 
tortions in  Ireland,  his  treatment  of  Lord  Mountmorris 
and  Lord  Ely  is  sufficient  to  stamp  him  with  lasting 
infamy.  The  former,  for  a  mere  expression  condemna- 
tory of  his  conduct,  he  dragged  before  a  tribunal  which 
he  himself  controlled,  and  caused  sentence  of  death  to  be 
pronounced  upon  him.  His  life  was  indeed  spared,  yet 
on  such  terms  that  made  even  death  preferable.  The 
latter  he  sent  to  prison,  in  order  to  force  him  to  settle 
his  estate  according  to  the  wishes  of  his  daughter-ir- 
law,  whom  Strafford  had  seduced.     Whether,  therefore 


CAUSES     OF     THE     REVOLIFTION.  39 

under  the  technicalities  of  the  law,  he  was  strictly  guilty 
of  high  treason  or  not,  he  merited  his  fate,  not  only  for 
his  public  but  his  private  acts.  The  House,  however, 
on  his  condemnation,  nobly  excluded  his  children  from 
the  legal  consequences  of  the  sentence,  an  act  of  gene- 
rosity for  which  they  had  no  precedent  in  the  king. 

Cromwell  saw  this  thrilling  scene  from  its  beginning 
to  its  denouement.  The  trial  and  execution  of  a  man 
next  to  the  king,  in  authority  and  power,  must  have 
made  a  deep  impression  upon  him,  and  exerted  a  power- 
ful influence  on  his  after  course.  To  his  just  mind, 
unbiased  by  reverence  for  blood,  and  judging  actions  by 
the  simple  rule  of  right,  there  could  have  been  but  little 
difference  between  the  guilt  of  the  king  and  his  minis- 
ter ;  and  when  we  remember  this  precedent  which  he 
had  before  him,  and  by  whom  it  was  furnished,  we  can- 
not be  surprised  at  the  readiness  with  which  he  after- 
wards affixed  his  signature  to  the  death-warrant  of 
Charles. 

At  the  opening  of  this  parliament  the  spring  previous, 
Cromwell  made  a  speech  on  presenting  a  petition  of  John 
Lilburn,  the  man  who  had  been  tied  to  a  cart's  tail,  and 
whipped  through  the  streets  of  Westminster.  The  fol- 
lowing description  of  his  personal  appearance,  at  that 
time,  is  given  by  Sir  Phillip  Warwick :  "  The  first  time 
I  ever  took  notice  of  Mr.  Cromwell,"  says  he,  "  was  in 
the  very  beginning  of  the  parliament  held  in  November, 
1640.  *  *'  I  came  into  the  House,  one  morning,  well 
clad,  imd  perceived  a  gentleman  speaking,  whom  I  knew 
not — very  ordinarily  apparelled  ;  for  it  was  a  plain  cloth 


40  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

suit,  which  seemed  to  have  been  ma,de  by  an  ill  country 
tailor ;  his  linen  was  plain,  and  not  very  clean ;  and  I 
remember  a  speck  or  two  of  blood  upon  his  little  band,* 
which  was  not  much  laro-er  than  his  collar.  His  hat 
was  without  a  hat-band.  His  stature  w^as  of  good  size; 
his  sword  stuck  close  to  his  side ;  his  countenance  swol- 
len and  reddish;  his  voice  sharp  and  untuneable,  and 
his  eloquence  full  of  fervor:  for  the  subject  matter 
would  not  bear  much  reason,  it  being  in  behalf  of  a  ser- 
vant of  Mr.  Prynne's,  who  had  dispensed  Bibles.  I  sin- 
cerely profess  it  lessened  my  reverence  unto  that  great 
council,  for  this  gentleman  was  much  barkened  unto." 

Add  to  this,  a  face  whose  features  seemed  wrought 
out  of  iron,  a  large  rubicund  nose,  wrinkled  and  warted 
cheeks,  heavy  and  shaggy  eyebrows,  with  a  majestic 
forehead  above  them,  rising  like  the  front  of  a  marble 
temple  over  the  coarser  features  beneath,  and  around 
it  rich  and  clustering  hair,  parted  in  the  middle,  with  a 
single  lock  straying  loosely  by  itself — firm-set  lips,  deep 
and  solemn  grey  eyes,  piercing  you  through  and  through, 
and  when  lit  by  excitement  terrible  as  lightning,  and 
you  have  the  personal  appearance  of  Oliver  Cromiwell. 
There  vrere  about  him,  also,  an  air  of  command,  and  a 
conscious  superiority,  to  which  the  proudest  noble  and 
the  fiercest  foe  alike  yielded  deference. 

On  this  occasion,  he  was  to  defend  one  who  had  been 
publicly  whipped  for  the  very  sentiments  he  himself 
entertained.  Bold,  fearless  and  decided,  with  his  indig- 
nation aroused  by  the  injustice  of  the  act,  no  wonder 

*  Probably  he  had  cut  himself  in  shaving. 


1641.]  ON    A     PRIVATE     COMMITTEE.  41 

his  "eloquence  was  full  of  fervor."  The  inherent  right 
to  command — that  secret  power  over  others  acknow- 
ledged in  such  men  as  Washington  and  Bonaparte, 
were  unconsciously  recognized  by  the  House,  and  it 
listened  to  him,  it  scarce  knew  why,  with  the  deepest 
attention.  _ 

A  fev/  months  after  this  speech,  we  find  Cromwell  on 
a  private  committee,  appointed  to  investigate  a  difficulty 
existing  between  certain  tenants  of  the  Queen's  Manors, 
and  inhabitants  bordering  upon  them,  upon  one  side, 
and  the  Earl  of  Manchester  and  his  son  on  the  other. 
Large  tracts  of  land  which  belonged  to  the  Queen's 
Manors,  and  had  been  left  as  commons,  were  ordered  to 
be  enclosed  without  consent  of  the  tenants,  and  the 
avails  given  to  the  earl.  Against  his  oppression  the 
tenants,  and  others  who  had  long  used  these  commons, 
made  complaint.  This  private  committee  sat  in  the 
Queen's  Court,  and  Cromwell  took  strong  ground  in 
favor  of  the  petitioners.  Lord  Clarendon  was  chairman 
of  that  committee,  and  hence  his  statement  should  be 
taken  with  many  grains  of  allowance,  when  he  says 
"that  Cromwell  defended  the  petitioners  with  a  great 
deal  of  passion,  and  when  the  chairman  threatened  them 
with  punishment  if  they  did  not  cease  their  clamors  and 
interruptions  of  the  opposite  witnesses  and  counsel, 
that  he  broke  forth  in  great  fury,  denouncing  him,  the 
chairman,  as  partial,  and  endeavoring  to  browbeat  the 
petitioners.  The 'Chairman  appealed  to  the  committee, 
who  sustained  him;  on  which  Cromwell  became  still 
more  furious,  and  when   Lord  Mandevil  attempted  to 


42  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

defend  his  course  v/ith  the  tenants,  he  answered  him 
with  much  rudeness  and  vehemence ;  and,  indeed,  be- 
came so  tempestuous  that  he  was  compelled  to  reprehend 
him,  and  threaten,  if  he  did  not  desist,  to  adjourn  the 
committee  and  complain  of  him  to  the  House."  This 
is  the  chairman's  account ;  but  one  who  is  acquainted 
with  the  views  entertained  at  that  time  by  noble  lords 
of  the  rights  of  ignorant  tenants,  and  the  summary 
manner  they  were  ordinarily  disposed  of,  can  have  no 
difficulty  in  ascertaining  the  truth.  Why  should  Crom- 
well become  so  excited  and  tempestuous ;  and  breaking 
over  all  bounds,  hurl  his  denunciations  on  both  the 
chairman  and  the  oppressive  earl  ?  He  had  no  interest 
in  the  case,  except  so  far  as  he  wished  justice  done. 
He  savv"  that  those  ignorant  rustics  were  looked  upon 
with  contempt — their  rights  undervalued,  and  that  noble 
blood  would  outvv^eigh  justice  in  the  balance,  and  his 
republican  spirit  took  fire.  He,  therefore,  stepped  be- 
tvveen  them  and  their  oppressors,  and  accused  the 
latter  of  partiality  and  wrong.  It  was  not  a  question 
which  involved  his  religious  feelings,  but  simply  one  of 
right  between  man  and  man ;  and  Clarendon  has  over- 
shot his  mark,  in  endeavoring  to  make  us  believe  that 
Cromwell  became  so  rude,  outrageous  and  uncontrolla- 
ble, without  provocation.  He  proves  very  conclusively 
that  great  wrong  was  done  in  that  committee,  and  the 
fire  that  flashed  from  Cromwell's  eye,  and  the  invec- 
tive that  poured  from  his  lips,  were  called  forth  by  it  and 
it  alone. 

This   year,  1641,  was  pregnant  with   great  events. 


1641.]  THE    KING    VISITS    SCOTLAND.  43 

Strafford  was  executed  May  11 — the  king  gave  his 
consent  to  the  aboHtion  of  the  star-chamber  court  of 
high  commission,  and  all  arbitrary  tribunals,  July  5, 
and  departed  for  Scotland  in  August.  His  northern 
trip  was  ostensibly  for  the  purpose  of  ratifying  the  treaty 
with  the  Scotch,  but  in  fact,  to  get  proofs  on  which  to 
accuse  the  leaders  of  parliament  of  high  treason,  in  carry- 
ing on  a  correspondence  with  the  Scotch  covenanters — 
thus,  perhaps  inducing  the  invasion  itself  In  the  mean- 
time, parliament  adjourned  for  six  weeks. 

In  November  the  massacre  of  the  Irish  Protestants, 
by  the  papists,  took  place. 

The  king  failed  in  his  visit  to  Scotland.  Though 
he  devoutly  attended  Presbyterian  churches — heard  the 
long  prayers  and  longer  sermons  of  Presbyterian  preach- 
ers with  becoming  gravity,  and  seemed  sufficiently 
concihating  to  please  the  most  dissatisfied;  the  discovery 
of  the  plot  he  had  laid  against  the  parliament  aroused 
the  deepest  indignation  ;  and  when  it  again  assembled, 
it  was  with  the  full  belief  that  Charles  meditated  its 
destruction  by  violence.  What  with  army  plots — plots 
against  members — Irish  massacres,  and  the  universal 
outcry  against  reUgious  oppression  and  corruption,  and 
the  fear  of  some  great  approaching  evil,  England  was 
moved  to  its  centre.  The  cries  of  the  multitude  rang 
around  the  walls  of  parliament ;  and  in  the  city  and  the 
country  everything  was  in  commotion. 

All  these  causes  combined  impelled  parliament  to 
draw  up  a  grand  petition  and  remonstrance. 


44  OLIVER     CROMWELt-» 


GRAND  PETITION   AND  REMONSTRANCE. 

This,  not.  content  with  setting  forth  prevaihng  abuses, 
went  carefully  over  the  past — contrasting  the  course  of 
the  king  with  that  of  the  parliament,  and  placed  the  blame 
of  the  evils  which  burdened  the  land  on  the  throne  itself. 
It  was  designed  for  the  people  rather  than  the  king,  and 
expected  to  gain  more  by  receiving  their  sympathy  and 
co-operation  than  by  obtaining  any  redress  from  the 
throne.  The  debate  on  it  vv^as  the  stormiest  ever  wit- 
nessed in  the  House.  On  Nov.  21,  a  motion  was  made 
to  put  it  to  vote,  but  Lord  Falkland  and  others  insisted 
that  it  should  lie  over  till  next  day,  which  was  done. 
On  coming  out  of  the  House,  Cromwell  said  to  him, 
"  Why  would  you  have  it  put  off;  the  day  would  quick- 
ly have  determined  it."  "  There  would  not  have  been 
time  enough,"  said  Falkland,  "for  sure  it  would  take 
some  debate."  "  A  very  sorry  one,"  answered  Crom- 
well. 

The  next  day,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the 
debate  commenced,  and  continued  till  midnight,  v.hen 
the  House  divided,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty-nine  Avere 
found  in  its  favor,  and  a  hundred  and  forty-eight  against 
it.  Hampden  immediately  moved  that  it  should  be 
printed.  Upon  this  the  long  smothered  fire  broke  forth. 
"  I  protest,  I  protest !"  rang  from  different  parts  of  tha 
House ;  all  was  uproar  and  clanior — members  laid  theii 
hands  upon  their  swords ;  and  for  two  hours  the  House 
presented  a  scene  of  confusion  and  passion  fearful  and 


1641.]       PETITION    AND    REMONSTRANCE.  45 

indescribable.  At  length,  on  motion  of  Hampden,  the 
question  of  printing  was  laid  over  till  next  day.  What 
Cromwell  said  in  this  tumult,  or  what  he  did,  we  know 
nothing;  yet  one  may  be  well  assured  that  when  mem- 
bers sprang  to  their  feet  and  laid  their  hands  upon  their 
swords,  he  was  not  among  the  least  excited :  and  had 
words  come  to  blows,  his  stalwart  arm  would  have  been 
the  first  to  strike.  .         ^ 

At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  House  adjourned ; 
-  and  as  they  were  coming  out  Falkland  said  to  Cromwell, 
"Well,  M^as  there  a  debate?"  "I'll  take  your  word 
another  tune,"  replied  the  latter ;  and  then  added  in  a 
low  tone,  "  had  the  remonstrance  been  rejected,  I  would, 
to-morrow,  have  sold  everything  I  possessed  and  never 
seen  England  more;  and  I  know  many  other  honest 
men  of  the  same  opinion." 

The  next  afternoon,  the  motion  to  print  was  carried. 
i  com  this  time  the  disorders  increased,  and  petitions 
against  the  bishops  and  episcopacy  flowed  in  from  every 
quarter  to  the  lower  /House.  The  prelates  themselves 
were  treated  with  open  insult  by  the  populace,  and  com- 
pelled to  retire  secretly  from  the  House  of  Lords  to  their 
homes.  Scenes  of  violence  occurred  in  the  streets,  and 
the  friends  of  the  king  under  the  name  of  Cavaliers  and 
those  of  parhament  distinguished  as  Roundheads  formed 
separate  parties.  Parliament  asked  the  king  for  a 
guard,  and  receiving  a  refusal,  passed  a  vote  authorising 
every  member  to  bring  an  armed  servant  with  him.* 
The  bishops  insulted  and  assailed,  finally  withdrew  from 

*  Vide  Clarendon,  Warwick,  &c. 


46  OLIVER     CROiM  WELL. 

parliament,  and  drew  up  a  protest  declaring  that  all  its 
acts  were  null  and  void,  without  their  sanction.  In- 
dignant at  this  high-handed  act,  the  commons  im- 
peached the  twelve  bishops  who  had  signed  it  and  sent 
them  to  the  Tower. 

The  disorder  and  excitement  around  Westminster 
and  Whitehall  extended  to  the  country — associations 
were  jbrmed  in  almost  every  place  to  defend  both  civil 
and  religious  liberty,  and  the  fires  of  rebellion  were 
rapidly  kindling  all  over  the  land. 

The  king,  in  the  meantime,  instead  of  relenting, 
seemed  resolved  on  still  bolder  measures  than  hitherto 
adopted.  Lord  Digby,  now  his  most  influential  adviser, 
proposed  that  open  violence  should  be  employed  to  re- 
duce the  commons  to  obedience.  In  constant  conference 
with  the  queen,  he  won  her,  and  at  length  the  king, 
over  to  his  daring  plans;  and  at  the  opening  of  the  new 
year,  1642,  the  final  explosion  took  place.  The  number 
of  cavaliers  around  the  House  of  Commons  kept  in- 
creasing daily,  and  the  members  becoming  still  more 
alarmed,  again  petitioned  the  king  for  a  guard.  He 
again  refused,  giving  his  sacred  promise  that  no  violence 
should  be  attempted,  saying,  "  We  do  engage  unto  you, 
solemnly,  on  the  word  of  a  king,  that  the  security  of  all 
and  every  one  of  you  from  violence,  is  and  ever  shall  be 
as  much  our  care  as  the  preservation  of  us  and  our 
children." 


1642.]  FIVE     MEMBERS     SEIZED.  47 

ATTEMPTED    SEIZURE    OF    THE    FIVE    MEMBERS. 

This  was  January  3d ;  yet  on  that  very  day,  he  sent 
his  attorney-general,  Sir  Edward  Herbert,  to  the  House 
of  Peers,  to  accuse  five  members  of  the  commons, 
Hampden,  Pym,  Holies,  Strode  and  Haselrig,  of  high 
treason,  and  demand  their  arrest.  Right  on  the  heels  of 
his  sacred  promise  not  to  use  violence,  came  his  ser- 
geant-at-arms  to  secure  the  accused;  but  the  House 
would  not  give  them  up,  declaring  that  consideration 
was  required  before  such  a  breach  of  privilege  could  be 
allowed.  The  next  day  it  was  announced  that  the  king, 
with  several  hundred  men,  all  armed,  was  on  his  way  to 
take  by  force  what  he  could  not  obtain  by  command. 
At  the  news,  swords  flashed  in  the  hall  of  parliament, 
and  brows  knit  in  stern  defiance.  But  better  counsels 
prevailed,  and  the  five  members  were  hurried  away  be- 
fore the  guard  arrived.  The  king  left  his  soldiers  at  the 
door,  and  entered  the  House,  accompanied  only  by  his 
nephew.  He  paused  a  moment  on  the  threshhold,  and 
then  advanced  towards  the  Speaker's  chair.  Not  a 
sound  broke  the  silence  that  succeeded  his  entrance,  and 
every  footfall  was  distinctly  heard  as  he  slowly  strode  up 
the  hall.  Taking  the  Speaker's  seat,  he  glanced  over  the 
House,  and  it  is  said  when  his  eye  encountered  that  of 
Cromy/ell,  the  savage  glare,  and  fixed  defiant  expression 
of  the  latter,  arrested  his  attention,  and  for  a  brief  space 
the  two  future  rivals  sat  face  to  face — one  endeavoring 
to  overawe  by  his  calm,  proud  and  haughty  glance ;  the 
other,  engrossed  only  with  his  burning  passion,  and  firm 


48  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

determination  to  resist.  At  length,  the  king's  eye  bent 
before  the  steady  gaze  of  Cromwell.  He  then  made  a 
speech,  saying  that  he  expected  that  the  accused,  as  soon 
as  they  returned,  would  be  sent  to  him ;  and  departed. 
As  he  passed  through  the  door,  the  smothered  indignation 
broke  forth,  and  "  privilege !  privilege !"   smote  his  ear. 

The  next  day  the  citizens  rushed  to  arms,  and  all 
was  in  commotion.  As  the  king  passed  through  the 
crowd,  it  w^as  silent  and  cold,  save  when  the  cry  of 
"  privilege !  privilege !"  was  repeated,  in  suppressed  mur- 
murs; and  a  pamphlet  w^as  thrown  into  his  carriage, 
headed,  "  To  your  tents,  O  Israel !" — the  w^atchw^ord  of 
the  ten  tribes  of  Israel,  when  they  revolted  from  their 
king. 

Here  is  the  beginning  of  the  war.  The  parliament 
found  that  it  must  surround  itself  with  armed  ^orce  for 
self-protection — an  armed  force  begat  armed  force,  till 
civil  war  broke  forth  in  all  its  fury.  Hitherto,  Charles 
had  professed  great  affection  and  respect  for  parliament 
— made  endless  promises,  and  broken  them,  "on  the 
word  of  a  king."  But  now,  farther  duphcity  was  of  no 
avail — the  mask  was  off,  and  hostilities  had  commenced, 
and  though  peace  could  be,  and  was  talked  about, 
parliament  resolved  never  to  let  supreme  power  again 
rest  in  the  hands  of  a  monarch  who  seemed  to  have  no 
moral  sense  respecting  truth  and  falsehood.  Besides, 
the  leaders  of  parliament  knew  that  they  now  lived  with 
a  halter  about  their  necks,  and  let  Charles  once  gain 
the  ascendancy  he  formerly  held,  he  would  make  sum- 
mary work  with  them. 


1641.]  RECAPITULATION.  49 

The  king,  with  his  court  and  family,  now  left  White- 
hall, never  to  revisit  it  again,  except  as  he  bid  it  farewell 
to  ascend  the  scaffold.  Negotiations  were  for  awhile 
kept  up  between  him  and  parliament — his  sanction 
to  a  bill  excluding  the  imprisoned  bishops  from  a 
seat  in  the  House  of  Lords,  was  asked ;  and  at  length, 
in  order  to  secure  the  safe  retreat  of  his  wife  into 
France,  given.  Parliament  also  sent  to  know  if  he 
would  grant  them  "power  of  militia,"  (i.  e.  to  raise 
militia  for  their  own  defence,)  and  accept  the  list  of 
lord  Heutenants  made  out  by  them.  "  No,  by  God,"  he 
answered,  "  not  for  an  hour  ;"  and  so  militia  had  to  be 
raised  in  some  other  way  than  through  royal  permission. 

In  this  synopsis,  the  career  and  separate  steps  of  the 
I  evolution  may  be  traced  out.  First,  parliament  wished 
to  place  some  restrictions  on  arbitrary  power,  nothing 
more.  The  resistance  and  madness  of  Charles,  aroused 
indignation,  and  boldness,  and  discussion.  The  natural 
result,  was,  clearer  views  of  their  own  rights,  and  of  the 
injustice  of  the  king's  arbitrary  conduct.  The  king  in- 
stead of  yielding  with  grace,  multiplied  his  tyrannical 
acts,  and  incensed  still  more  the  commons  of  England. 
Not  satisfied  with  being  himself  a  despot  in  civil  mat- 
ters, he  allowed  the  fanatical  Laud  to  be  one  in  affairs 
of  the  church.  Thus,  while  he  exasperated  parlia- 
ment, Laud  maddened  the  people,  and  so  transferred  or 
rather  extended  the  quarrel  from  it,  to  every  town  in 
the  land;  making  the  excitement  and  opposition  uni- 
versal. Slight  reforms  were  sought  in  the  first  place, 
but  the  principles  of  justice  on  which  they  were  based, 


60  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

soon  brought  to  light  grievances,  whose  removal  would 
infringe  still  more  on  the  sovereignty  of  the  king.  The 
king  resisted,  but  the  commons  stood  firm,  and  as 
soon  as  the  people  found  they  had  a  strong  ally,  they 
brought  in  their  grievances  on  religious  matters.  Bro- 
ken promises,  falsehoods,  secret  and  open  tyranny,  every- 
where practised  by  the  king  and  his  bishops,  rendered 
the  breach  between  the  monarch  and  his  subjects  still 
wider,  until  at  length,  royal  pikes  gleamed  around  parha- 
ment.  Assailed  by  physical  force,  parliament  sought  to 
protect  itself  by  physical  force,  and  violence  took  the 
place  of  discussion  and  remonstrance,  and  revolution 
succeeded  reform^ation.  There  was  nothing  unnatural 
in  all  this — there  will  be  the  same  result  in  every  despot- 
ism of  Europe,  so  soon  as  there  can  be  a  representation 
of  the  people,  bold  enough  to  ask  justice. 

For  taking  part  in  such  a  movement  of  the  English 
people — fighting  bravely  for  the  English  Constitution  and 
English  liberty ;  and  finally  bringing  the  revolution  to 
the  only  peaceful  termination  it  could  have  had — Oliver 
Cromwell  has  been  termed  a  regicide,  a  monster,  and  a 
tyrant.  But  not  so  will  he  appear  to  future  generations 
— not  so  does  he  appear  to  us.  In  every  step  of  his  pro- 
gress, we  see  the  patriot  and  the  honest  man.  There 
are  always  the  same  massive  features,  grave  counte- 
nance and  serious  air,  with  here  and  there  indications  of 
the  volcano  within.  Whether  wandering  by  the  banks  of 
the  Ouse,  gloomy  and  desponding,  as  he  attempts  to  look 
into  that  mysterious  eternity  to  which  he  is  hastening — • 
or  riding   all  fierce  and  terrible,  amid  his  Ironsides; 


1642.]  HIS     CHARACTER.  61 

through  the  smoke  of  battle — or  with  hat  on  his  head, 
stamping  on  the  floor  of  parUament,  and  hurhng  defi- 
ance on  all  around — or  praying  in  the  midst  of  the  mid- 
night storm,  as  life  is  receding;  he  is  the  same  reso- 
lute, thoughtful,  and  lofty  man.  Unlike  most  distin- 
guished characters,  he  entered  on  pubhc  life  late, 
and  was  forty  years  of  age,  before  he  took  any  part 
in  those  scenes  in  which  he  Avas  afterwards  to  be 
the  chief  actor.  His  history  is  a  forcible  illustration  of 
the  effect  of  circumstances  on  a  man's  fortune.  Had 
England  remained  quiet,  Cromwell  like  Washington, 
would  have  spent  his  energies  on  his  farm,  improving 
his  estate ;  and  died  a  good,  straighforward  English  gen- 
tleman. But  the  field  w^hich  the  revolution  opened  to 
him,  soon  scattered  his  plans  for  the  improvement  of  his 
lands  to  the  wind ;  and  the  too  severe,  too  contemplative 
religionist,  entered  on  a  life  of  action,  that  left  his  disor- 
dered fancy  but  little  time  to  people  his  brain  with 
strange  and  gloomy  forms. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE    FIRST     CIVIL    WAR FR03I     1642     TO    THE     CAMPAIGN 

OF    1644. 

Activity  of  Cromwell— Preparations  for  War— The  King  Erects  his 
Standard— Baltle  of  Edgehill— Cromwell's  Opinion  of  It— Resolves 
to  Raise  his  Ironsides — Their  Character— Fight  at  Brentford— Enthu- 
siasm of  the  Citizens  of  London — Cromwell  Takes  Croyland,  Lowe- 
stoff,  Stamford  and  Burleigh  House— Fight  at  Grantham— Fight  at 
Gainsborough — Death  of  Hampden — His  Last  Hours  and  Burial — His 
Character — The  Aid  of  Scotland  Sought— Mob  of  Women  in  London 
—Battle  of  Newbury — Cromwell  Governor  of  Ely — Ratification  of 
the  Covenant — Winceby  Fight— Religious  Character  of  the  Revo- 
lution. 

Although  parliament  and  the  king  occupied  a  warlike 
attitude  to  each  other,  hostilities  were  still  delayed,  and 
messages  and  missives,  without  end,  passed  between 
them.  The  former  had  not  yet  made  up  its  mind  to  do 
without  the  latter,  and  sought  only  to  abridge  his  power. 

In  the  meantime,  royalist  writers  used  their  pens  with 
such  vigor,  that  the  cause  of  parliament  rapidly  declined ; 
and,  at  length,  a  petition  from  Kent  was  presented, 
praying  for  the  restoration  of  the  royal  prerogative,  and 
of  episcopacy.  It  was  rejected,  and  parliament,  attribut- 
ing it  to  the  effects  of  the  late  writings  of  the  royalists, 
immediately  instituted  a  severe  censorship  of  the  press. 
But  while   things  were   in    this   state  of  uncertainty, 


1642.]  Cromwell's  ACTIVITY.  53 

Cromwell  did  not  remain  inactive.  In  February,  1642, 
he  offered  to  lend  parliament  £500,  to  help  quell  the  in- 
surrection in  Ireland.  In  April,  he  is  found  reporting  to 
the  House  of  Commons,  that  the  petition  on  prerogative 
and  episcopacy  is  about  to  be  presented  again,  and 
receives  orders  to  prevent  it.  .  Leaving  the  statesmen 
to  manage  things  in  the  House,  he  occupied  himself 
with  external  matters — keeping  alive  the  sympathy  of  the 
people — ^watching  and  baffling  the  royalists,  and  exhibit- 
ing the  practical  power  which  afterwards  carried  him 
to  such  an  elevation.*  He  already  began  to  faliil  the 
prediction  made  by  his  cousin  Hampden  of  him  to 
Lord  Digby.  Cromwell,  on  a  certain  occasion,  was 
addressing  the  House  in  his  abrupt,  ardent  manner, 
when  Lord  Digby,  who  did  not  Ihiow  him,  bent  forward 
and  asked  Hampden  who  '-'that  sloven"  was.  "That 
sloven,"  replied  the  latter,  "  whom  you  see  before  you, 
hath  no  ornament  in  his  speech — that  sloven,  I  say,  if 
we  should  ever  come  to  a  breach  with  the  king  (which 
God  forbid)  loill  he  the  greatest  man  in  the  kingdom." 

In  the  meantime,  negotiations  failing,  the  king  and 
parliament  prepared  for  war: — the  former  issued  his 
"  commission  of  array,"  in  order  to  raise  an  army ;  and 
the  latter,  their  "  ordinance  for  the  militia,"  for  the  same 
purpose.  These  two  calls  for  troops,  issued  by  two 
different  authorities,  rapidly  divided  the  land,  and  on 
one  and  the  other  side,  the  people  began  to  an-ange 
themselves. 

•    In  July,  Cromwell   asked  permission  of  parliament  to 
*  Vide  Par.  Hist.  II.,  1104. 


64  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

go  down  to  Cambridge,  and  raise  two  companies  of 
volunteers — offering  to  give,  himself,  £lOO,  towards  de- 
fraying the  expenses.  Here  was  high  treason  at  the 
outset,  and  if  the  king  should  conquer,  loss  of  life  would 
follow;  but  he  had  taken  his  course,  and  not  all  the 
kings  in  the  world  could  turn  him  aside.  Oxford  sent  its 
plate  to  the  king,  to  be  melted  down  for  royal  use ;  and 
Cambridge  ^^'as  about  to  follow  its  example,  when 
Cromwell,  hearing  of  it,  hastened  thither,  and  summon- 
ing his  train-bands,  prevented  it. 

THE    KING    ERECTS    HIS    STANDARD. 

This  was  August  15th,  and  eight  days  after,  the  king 
erected  the  royal  standard  at  Nottingham,  and  called  his 
subjects  to  rally  around  it.  It  was  just  at  evening — the 
sky  was  dark  and  gloomy,  and  the  wind  swept  by  in 
gusts — when  Charles  rode  out  to  a  hill  that  overlooked 
the  town,  accompanied  by  eight  hundred  horse,  and  a 
few  mihtia,  and  ordered  his  proclamation  to  be  read. 
The  trumpets  then  sounded,  and  the  standard,  bearing 
the  motto,  "Render  unto  Caesar  the  things  that  are 
Csesar's,"  was  hoisted  to  the  top  of  the  castle,  and  hailed 
with  acclamations  of  "God  save  the  king!"  The  next 
day,  however,  the  wind  blew  it  down.  Charles  was 
angry  that  such  an  untoward  accident  should  occur  at 
the  outset,  and  commanded  the  heralds  to  plant  it 
outside  the  castle,  in  the  open  ground.  This  they  at- 
tempted to  do ;  but  the  soil  was  rocky,  and  resisted  all 
their  efforts  to  sink  the  flag-staff  in  it.     They  then  en- 


1642.]       THE     ARMIES     TAKE     THE     FIELD.  55 

deavored  to  dig  a  hole  with  their  dagger-points,  but  for 
several  hours  were  compelled  to  hold  the  standard  in 
their  hands.  The  spectators  regarded  it  as  a  bad  omen, 
and  went  away  filled  with  gloomy  anticipations. 

At  length,  however,  a  royal  army  of  12,000  men  was 
raised,  and  the  cavalry  placed  under  the  bold  and  brutal 
Prince  Rupert,  the  king's  nephew.  The  parliament  had 
succeeded,  also,  in  bringing  into  the  field  20,000  in- 
fantry, and  4,500  horse,  and  given  the  command  to  the 
Earl  of  Essex.  The  cavalry  was  divided  into  seventy- 
five  squadrons,  each  composed  of  sixty  horse.  Over 
one  of  these  Cromwell  w^as  appointed  captain.  His  son 
Oliver  w^as  also  cornet  in  the  squadron  under  the  Earl 
of  Bedford.  Thus,  father  and  son  went  forth  together, 
to  offer  up  their  lives  for  their  country. 

The  parliamentary  force  assembled  at  Northampton, 
and  the  nation  looked  forward,  with  -breathless  anxiety, 
to  the  first  encounter  of  the  people  with  their  king. 
The  country  around  no  longer  wore  its  peaceful  look. 
Troops  of  horse  were  seen  crossing  it  in  every  direction 
to  the  place  of  rendezvous ;  and  the  blast  of  the  bugle, 
and  roll  of  the  drum,  and  tread  of  marching  men,  sent 
terror  through  the  quiet  villages  and  rural  districts  of 
England.  They  came  pouring  in  from  every  quarter, 
and  when  ail  were  assembled,  that  army  of  nearly  25,000 
men,  presented  a  formidable  array  against  King  Charles 
and  his  cavaliers. 

After  lying  some  time  at  Northampton,  Essex  at 
length  got  in  motion,  and  moving  by  easy  marches,  ar- 
rived, on  the  23d  of  September,  at  Worcester,  within  a 


56  O  L  1  V  E  R     C  E  O  -M  W  E  L  L  . 

few  leagues  of  the  royal  forces.  Here  he  halted  for 
three  weeks,  as  if  his  sole  business  was  to  wait  the  king's 
pleasure.  Charles,  seeing  the  dilatoriness  of  his  antago- 
nist, resolved  to  march  at  once  on  London,  and  finish 
the  war  by  a  single  stroke.  He  immediately  put  his 
troops  in  motion,  and  got  three  days'  march  ahead, 
before  Essex  seemed  to  wake  from  his  lethargy.  Being 
at  last  roused  by  the  pressing  danger  of  parliament  and 
London,  he  commenced  the  pursuit.  But  in  the  mean- 
time the  greatest  alarm  prevailed  in  the  city.  Every 
hour  the  hostile  army  was  drawing  nearer,  while  the 
forces  of  Essex  were  nowhere  to  be  seen.  The  parlia- 
ment, however,  instead  of  being  terror-struck,  aroused 
the  people  to  resistance.  All  who  had  not  voluntarily 
subscribed  to  the  support  of  the  army  were  immediately 
taxed,  and  those  who  refused  to  pay  hurried  off  to 
prison.  The  disaffected  were  deprived  of  arms ;  every 
stable  in  and  about  the  town  was  forced  to  yield  its 
complement  of  horses,  and  squadrons  of  horse  sprung 
iike  magic  into  existence.  Fortifications  v/ere  hastily 
thrown  up,  barricades  erected,  and  chains  strung  across 
the  streets.  A  lofty  enthusiasm  had  taken  the  place  of 
fear ;  and  women  were  seen  plying  the  spade,  and  work- 
ing at  the  fortifications — even  young  children  toiled  on 
beside  their  mothers ;  and  delicate  hands  vied  with  each 
other  in  the  patriotic  work.  All  day  long  the  streets 
echoed  with  the  heavy  blows  of  workmen,  and  tread 
of  marching  men;  and  everything  foretold  a  bloody 
resistance. 

But  while  London  was  in  this  state  of  excitement,  not 


1642.]  BATTLE     OF     EDGEHILL.  57 

far  off,  in  Warwickshire,  the  first  act  of  the  great  tra- 
gedy had  begun. 


BATTLE    OF    EDGEHILL. 

Essex,  leaving  behind  him  several  of  his  regiments, 
and  among  them  that  of  Hampden,  and  a  part  of  his 
artillery,  pressed  on  after  the  king.  For  ten  days  the 
rear  of  the  royal  columns  and  the  van  of  Essex's  were 
only  a  few  leagues  apart,  yet  in  mutual  ignorance  of 
each  other's  movements.  At  length  the  latter  overtook 
the  king  near  Keynton,  and  formed  his  troops  at  the 
foot  of  an  eminence  called  Edgehill.  Charles  immedi- 
ately turned  on  his  pursuers ;  and  on  the  23d  of  October 
the  two  armies  drew  up  in  front  of  each  other  in  battle 
array.  It  was  Sunday,  and  many  of  the  Puritan  officers 
were  on  their  way  to  church,  when  messengers,  galloping 
along  the  road,  called  them  back  to  the  field.  It  is  a 
curious  fact,  that  the  Puritans  preferred  the  Sabbath 
above  all  other  days  on  which  to  fight  their  battles. 
This  shows  how  sacred  they  viewed  their  cause,  and 
how  certain  they  w^ere  of  the  smile  of  heaven. 

During  the  whole  forenoon  the  different  commanders 
vv^ere  busy  in  arranging  the  order  of  battle.  Here  the 
squadrons  of  cavalry  stood  in  shining  ranks,  their  hel- 
mets glittering  in  the  noon-day  sun — and  there  moved 
the  dark  masses  of  infantry.  About  two  in  the  after- 
noon the  long  roll  of  the  drum  was  heard,  and  the 
solid  ranks  began  to  advance.  The  artillery  opened  its 
fii-e,  the  infantry  went  pouring  to  the  charge  with  deaf- 
3* 


58  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  VV  E  L  L  . 

ening  shouts,  and  that  green  spot  in  Warwickshire  was 
wrapt  in  clouds  of  smoke,  and  shook  to  the  tread  of 
nearly  forty  thousand  men.  At  length  the  bugles  rang 
along  the  hitherto  silent  squadrons  of  the  parliamentary 
cavalry,  and  the  long  hues  of  helmets  rose  and  fell  as  the 
steel-clad  mass  went  hurrying  forward.  But  at  this  cri- 
tical moment  a  colonel,  Sir  Faithful  Fortescue,  separated 
himself  with  his  regiment  from  the  parliamentary  force, 
and  spurred  across  to  the  lines  of  the  royalists.  This 
defection,  at  the  moment  when  the  charge  v/as  to  be 
made,  paralyzed  the  advancing  squadrons,  and  broke  the 
shock ;  for  they  did  not  know^  how  many  more  regiments 
would  follow  this  dastardly  example,  and  desert  in  the 
very  crisis  of  the  conflict.  Prince  Rupert,  however, 
and  his  fierce  horsemen,  hailed  the  desertion  with  shouts 
of  applause  :  the  next  moment  their  bugles  rang  cheerily 
out,  and  they  burst  on  the  disheartened  cavalry  with 
such  fury  that  the  ranks  of  the  latter  were  broken  in  the 
first  onset,  and  the  whole  four  thousand  became  a  herd 
of  fugitives,  driving  over  the  country — sabred  down  at 
every  step  by  their  relentless  pursuers.  Leaving  the 
army  to  take  care  of  itself.  Prince  Rupert  and  his  men, 
intent  only  on  slaughter  and  pillage,  follow^ed  after  the 
flying  cavalry — chasing  them  for  two  miles  along  the 
road — and  were  stopped  at  last  only  by  the  columns  of 
Hampden,  hastening  to  the  battle-field.  The  latter 
bringing  his  artillery  to  the  front,  and  forming  his  men 
in  close  order,  soon  sent  the  headlong  cavalier  back. 

But  while  he  had  been  following  up  his  victory,  the 
tide  of  battle  had  turned  against  the  king.     Undismayed 


1642.]  THE     KING     DEFEATED.  59 

by  the  defeat  of  their  cavalry,  the  parliamentary  infantry 
charged  the  royalists  with  such  resolution  that  their 
ranks  were  shattered  and  broken ;  and  Rupert  returned 
only  to  see  the  king's  standard  in  the  hands  of  the 
enemy,  and  the  Earl  of  Lindsey,  the  commander-in-chief, 
mortally  wounded,  and  a  prisoner.  From  two  o'clock 
till  night-fall,  had  it  flamed  and  thundered  there,  at  the 
foot  of  Edgehill ;  and  now  Rupert,  as  he  reined  his  foam- 
covered  steed  up  beside  the  king,  told  him  the  day  was 
not  yet  wholly  lost — one  more  charge,  and  it  would  be 
won.  But  it  was  in  vain  they  called  on  the  squadrons 
to  charge  again,  for  the  king  and  the  throne.  The 
horses  were  jaded  out — the  ranks  broken — soldiers  were 
calling  after  their  officers,  and  officers  after  their  sol- 
diers ;  and  all  was  confusion  and  wreck  there,  on  the 
trodden  and  dead-covered  field,  while  Essex  had  a  strong 
reserve  still  in  complete  array,  in  the  distance. 

Darkness  at  length  wrapt  the  scene,  and  silence  fell 
on  the  plain,  and  both  armies  lay  down  amid  the  dead 
and  wounded,  to  v/ait  for  the  morning  sun  to  hght  them 
again  to  the  strife. 

At  daybreak  the  anxious  king  arose  and  surveyed  the 
wreck  of  his  army — a  third .  of  its  number  was  gone ; 
some  dead,  others  w^ounded ;  and  others  still,  famished 
with  hunger  and  cold,  had  fled  to  their  homes.  He  wish- 
ed to  renew  the  fight,  so  as  to  advance  on  London,  but 
dared  not  risk  an  engagement. 

At  the  council  held  in  the  parliamentary  camp  in  the 
morning,  Hampden,  Holies,  and  Stapleton,  and  others, 
wished  to  make  one  more  charge  on  the  king's  forces. 


60  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

The  fresh  regiments  they  said  would  advance  cheerfully 
to  the  conflict,  while  the  royal  troops,  dispirited  and 
reduced,  would  be  easily  broken.  But  some  of  the  old 
officers,  bound  down  by  continental  rules,  opposed  this 
opinion ;  declaring  that  the  raw  recruits  had  fought  one 
glorious  battle,  and  it  was  expecting  too  much  to  suppose 
they  would  fight  another  so  soon.  Besides,  London  was 
saved,  and  it  was  unwise  to  risk  all  in  another  engage- 
ment. This  tame  and  miserable  council  prevailed,  and 
the  two  armies  separated — the  king  establishing  his  head- 
quarters at  Oxford. 

This  was  Cromwell's  first  fight — he  was  in  the  cav- 
alry, which,  broken  at  the  charge  of  Rupert's  horsemen, 
had  turned  in  affright  over  the  field.  How  he  bore  him- 
self in  the  struggle,  we  have  no  account ;  but  judging  of 
his  actions  from  his  character  and  after  career,  troop 
sixty-seven  found,  in  that  day's  overthrov/,  that  they  had 
a  gallant  leader. 

His  conversation  with  his  cousin  Hampden  about  it 
afterwards,  shows  with  what  bitter  feelings  he  remem- 
bered his  discomfiture;  while  the  bold  resolution  he 
took  and  carried  out,  to  raise  a  body  of  horsemen  of 
his  own  selection,  proves  that  he,  on  that  day,  was  one 
of  the  sternest  and  steadiest  in  the  fight.  Speaking  of 
the  superiority  of  the  royalist  cavalry,  he  said,  "  How 
can  it  be  otherwise :  your  horse  are,  for  the  most  part, 
superannuated  domestics,  tapsters,  and  people  of  that 
sort ;  theirs  are  the  sons  of  gentlemen — men  of  quahty. 
Do  you  think  such  poor  vagabonds  as  your  fellows  have 
soul  enough  to  stand  against  gentlemen  full  of  resolution 


1G42.]  THE     IRONSIDES.  61 

and  honor  ?"  "  You  are  right,"  replied  Hampden ;  "  but 
how  can  it  be  helped  ?"  "  I  can  do  something  towards 
it/'  answered  Cromwell,  "  and  I  will :  I  will  raise  men 
who  have  the  fear  of  God  before  their  eyes ;  men  who 
will  bring  some  conscience  to  what  they  do ;  and  I  pro- 
mise you  they  shall  not  be  beaten." 

Carrying  out  this  resolution,  he,  the  next  winter,  form- 
ed the  nucleus  of  that  famous  body  of  horse  which,  at 
the  battle  of  Marston  Moor,  received  the  name  of  "  Iron- 
sides." He  chose  for  it  wealthy  farmers,  and  the  sons  of 
farmers — men  to  whom  wages  were  no  object,  and  who 
fought  for  conscience  sake  alone.  Stern  religionists,  like 
himself,  he  had  no  occasion  to  deceive  them  by  holding 
out  false  motives.  He  said  to  them  frankly,  "  I  do  not 
wish  you  to  believe,  as  my  commission  has  it,  that  you 
are  going  to  fight  for  the  king  and  parliament ;  for  if  the 
king  were  before  me  I  would  as  soon  shoot  him  as 
another :  if  your  conscience  will  not  allow  you  to  do  as 
much,  go  and  serve  elsewhere."  He  thus  got  around 
him  a  body  of  men  who  scorned  idleness  and  pleasure ; 
and  submitting  cheerfully  to  his  rigid  discipline,  bore  pri- 
vations and  toils  without  a  murmur,  nay,  with  enthusias- 
tic pride,  for  often  their  gallant  leader  slept  beside  them 
on  the  cold  earth,  and  shared  all  their  hardships.  Fight- 
ing under  the  special  protection  of  heaven,  and  for  God 
and  religion,  they  would  rush  to  battle  as  to  a  banquet, 
and  embrace  death  with  rapture.  Here  were  Napoleon's 
famous  cuirassiers  of  the  Imperial  Guard,  under  whose 
terrible  charge  the  best  infantry  in  the  world  went  down. 
Borne  up,  however,  by  a  higher  sentiment  than  glory. 


62  OLi 


R     CROMWELL. 


they  carried  m  their  charge  greater  power ;  and  this 
body  of  a  thousand  horse  was  never  beaten.  When  with 
the  fearful  war-cry,  "  RELicrox,"  Cromwell  hurled  them 
on  the  foe,  the  tide  of  battle  was  ahvays  turned.  As  a 
proof  of  their  religious  sincerity,  it  need  only  be  said 
that  they  chose  Richard  Baxter  for  their  chaplain,  who 
declined;  but  said  subsequently  if  he  had  known  that  all 
the  fire  w^as  in  that  one  spark,  he  would  have  accepted, 
and  endeavored  to  prevent  the  after  conflagration. 

To  return  to  the  course  of  events  immediately  after 
the  battle  of  Edgehill;  while  Essex  watched  the  king, 
who  still  held  his  quarters  at  Oxford,  Rupert,  with 
his  desperate  troopers,  ravaged  the  country,  pillaging  and 
destroying — boldJy  dashing  up  to  the  outskirts  of  London. 
In  the  meantime,  negotiations  were  re-opened  with  the 
king.  While  they  were  pending,  Charles,  with  his  usual 
perfidy,  advanced  on  London,  and  arriving  at  Brentford, 
within  seven  miles  of  the  city,  fell  wdth  his  whole  force 
on  Holies'  regiment  quartered  there.  But  this  gallant 
little  band  held  their  ground  so  firmly  that  Hampden  and 
Lord  Brook  had  time  to  arrive  with  their  regiments,  be- 
fore it  gave  wa3\  The  latter,  hurrying  on  their  columns 
with  shouts  to  the  attack,  checked  the  victorious  royal- 
ists, and  hour  after  hour  withstood  the  whole  weight  of 
the  king's  army.  The  cannonading  w^as  heard  in  Lon- 
don, where  an  armistice  had  been  resolved  upon,  and 
was  mistaken  for  distant  thunder.  But  Essex,  who  w^as 
in  the  House  of  Lords  at  the  time,  no  sooner  heard  the 
dull  and  heavy  explosions,  than  his  practised  ear  knew 
full  wtU  their  meaning,  and  calling  for  his  horse,  sprang 


1642.]  THE     KING    fl     PERFIDY.  63 

into  his  saddle,  and  putting  himself  at  the  head  of  what 
force  he  could  instantly  muster,  sallied  forth.  He  ar- 
rived in  time,  however,  only  to  find  those  regiments 
broken  and  repulsed,  and  the  king's  troops  occupying 
Brentford. 

London  was  filled  with  terror  and  rage  at  this  new 
act  of  perfidy  on  the  part  of  the  king ;  and  believing  that 
he  was  now  bent  on  storming  the  city,  made  desperate 
efforts  to  raise  an  army.  Volunteers  began  to  assemble 
from  every  part  of  the  town  in  crowds  ;  the  city  itself 
voted  four  thousand  of  its  enrolled  militia,  and  appointed 
Skippon  their  commander.  This  brave  and  heroic  man 
put  himself  at  their  head,  saying,  "  Come,  my  boys,  my 
brave  boys,  let  us  pray  heartily  and  fight  heartily.  I 
w^ill  run  the  same  fortunes  and  hazards  with  you.  Re- 
member the  cause  is  for  God,  and  for  the  defence  of 
yourselves,  your  wives  and  children.  Come,  my  honest 
and  brave  boys,  pray  heartily  and  fight  heartily,  and 
God  will  bless  us."  All  that  day  and  night  this  enthu- 
siastic yet  motley  army  w^as  filing  out  of  the  city,  fol- 
lowed by  parliament  and  crowds  of  men  and  women ; 
and  two  days  after  the  king's  attack  on  Holies'  regi- 
ment, Essex  reviewed  twenty-four  thousand  men  on 
Turnham-Green.  The  king's  outposts  were  in  sight, 
and  a  bloody  battle  w^as  momentarily  expected.  Hamp- 
den-, with  his  usual  boldness,  advised  an  immediate  at- 
tack, but  the  majority  of  the  officers  were  against  it, 
and  the  king  was  allowed  to  return  and  take  up  his 
winter  quarters  at  Oxford. 

Negotiations  were   again   opened  between  him  and 


{^ 


64  O  L  1  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

parliament,  and  the  war  around  the  centre  of  operations 
languished.  But  in  the  country  it  was  different.  As- 
sociations were  formed  in  every  part,  either  for  the  king 
or  parliament,  and  commissions  granted  them  to  raise 
troops  and  appoint  officers.  Of  these  associations  the 
Eastern,  embracing  the  counties  of  Norfolk,  Suffolk, 
Essex  and  Hertz,*  was  the  chief  one  for  parliament — in- 
deed the  only  one  that  survived  and  flourished.  Lord 
Grey  commanded  here,  but  Cromwell  was  the  principal 
actor.  These  associations  kept  up  during  the  winter 
the  war  which  was  suspended  between  the  main  armies. 
Rupert  rode  over  the  country  with  his  troopers,  plun- 
dering and  destroying;  and  small  detachments  fre- 
quently came  in  collision,  with  various  success. 

It  was  during  this  winter,  1642-3,  that  Cromwell  en- 
rolled, as  before  stated,  his  Ironsides.  Riding  hither  and 
thither,  to  collect  troops  and  repel  invasion,  the  hidden 
energy  of  the  man  began  to  develop  itself,  and  his  amaz- 
ing practical  power  to  be  felt.  He  was  everywhere 
present,  rallying  the  true-hearted,  punishing  the  disaf- 
fected, breaking  up  royalist  assemblages,  and  carrying  off 
royalists'  plate. 

Early  in  the  spring,  we  find  him  called  Colonel  Crom- 
well, though  the  date  of  his  appointment  is  not  known. 
He  was  at  Cambridge  on  the  first  of  March,  the  rendez- 
vous appointed  for  the  adherents  of  parliament  enlisted 
during  the  winter.  Soon  finding  himself  surrounded 
with  a  large  force,  he  compelled  Lord  Capel,  who  had 
been  threatening  Cambridge,  to  retire.     In  St.  Albans 

*  Other  counties  afterwards  came  iii. 


1643.]  ATTACK     ON     LOW  EST  OFF.  65 

the  High  Sheriff  endeavored  to  execute  the  "  commis- 
sion of  array  "  of  the  king  on  market  day ;  but  in  the 
midst  of  his  duties,  though  surrounded  by  a  strong  body 
guard,  he  was  suddenly  charged  by  Cromwell's  troopers, 
who  took  him  prisoner,  and  hurried  him  off  to  parhament 
to  answ^er  for  his  acts.  '•' '  Commissions  of  arra}^'  are 
not  handy  to  execute  in  the  Eastern  Association  at  pre- 
sent."* In  this  same  month,  while  at  Norwich,  he  was 
informed  that  the  towai  of  Lowestoff  was  fortifying  it- 
self; and  the  next  morning,  before  daylight,  was  off  with 
his  troops.  Forming  a  junction  with  the  Yarmouth 
volunteers,  who  had  five  pieces  of  cannon  with  them, 
he  boldly  advanced  on  the  town,  and  summoned  it  to 
surrender.  But  the  inhabitants  refused,  and  blocked 
themselves  in.  Not  an  opening  was  left  except  where 
three  cannon  were  placed  to  fire  on  the  assailants,  while 
in  front  of  these  a  strong  chain  was  stretched  to  keep 
off  the  dragoons.  Nothing  daunted,  the  dragoons  dis- 
mounted, and  crawling  under  the  chain,  advanced  to 
within  pistol-shot  of  the  cannoniers,  and  aimed  their 
pistols  at  their  heads.  The  latter  immediately  turned 
and  fled,  and  the  dragoons,  breaking  asunder  the  chain, 
mounted  their  horses  and  dashed  into  the  town. 

FIGHT    AT    GRANTHAM. 

In  May  of  this  same  year,  1643,  Cromwell  advanced 
on  Lincolnshire,  which  was  overrun  by  the  Marquis  of 
Newcastle's  army.     With  his  twelve  troops,  some  eight 

*  Vide  Carlyle. 


66  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

hundred  horse  in  all,  scattering  everything  before  him,  he 
came  in  sight,  on  the  evening  of  the  thirteenth,  of  a  body 
of  cavalry,  nearly  double  in  number  to  his  own.  But 
though  wearied  with  his  long  march,  and  opposed  by 
such  an  overwhelming  force,  he  nevertheless  boldly  re- 
solved on  an  immediate  attack.  The  disparity  of  the 
respective  forces  was  increased  still  more  by  the  miser- 
able horses  on  which  many  of  Cromwell's  men  were 
mounted.  He  had  not  as  yet  obtained  for  them  those 
noble  and  high-blooded  animals,  which  aftervrards  made 
the  charge  of  the  Ironsides  so  resistless. 

Cromwell,  however,  drew"  up  his  squadrons  in  order 
of  battle,  about  two  miles  from  the  tow^n.  It  was  a 
spring  evening — the  country  was  in  full  verdure,  and 
the  long  shadows  cast  by  the  declining  sun,  slept  tran- 
quilly on  the  green  sward  beside  the  troopers.  At  first, 
the  dragoons,  on  both  sides,  stood  off  at  long  musket 
shot,  and  fired  at  each  other  for  half  an  hour.  Crom- 
well becoming  im.patient,  and  finding  that  the  enemy 
had  no  intention  of  charging  him,  ordered  the  trumpets 
to  sound  along  his  lines.  Passing  from  a  walk  to  a  rapid 
trot,  they,  at  the  shout  of  their  leader,  fell  upon  the  royal- 
ists with  such  resolution,  that  they  rode  straight  through 
their  ranks,  and  routing  them,  hewed  them  down  w^th 
their  sabres  for  two  miles. 

About  this  time,  also,  the  parliamentary  forces  under 
Sir  William  Waller,  in  the  south  and  west,  scattered 
the  royalists,  taking  seven  towns  in  succession,  which 
awakened  such  enthusiasm  that  he  was  styled,  "  William 
the  Conqueror." 


1643.]  FIGHT     AT     GAINSBOROUGH.  67 

Never  idle,  Cromwell,  in  the  meanwhile,  kept  scour- 
ing the  country.  He  raised  the  siege  of  Croyland — 
took  Stamford,  and  driving  the  cavaliers  before  him 
into  Burleigh  House,  closely  invested  it.  Opening  all 
his  cannon  upon  it,  he  no  sooner  made  a  breach  in  the 
walls,  than  he  gave  orders  for  the  assault.  At  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  signal  was  given,  and  storm- 
ing over  those  strong  defences,  he  swept  them  like  a 
hurricane. 

FIGHT    AT    GAINSBOROUGH. 

Hardly  giving  his  little  army  time  to  breathe,  he  next 
advanced  on  Gainsborough — being  reinforced  on  the 
v;ay,  by  several  troops  of  horse  from  Nottingham  and 
Lincolnshire.  This  tow^n  was  held  by  Lord  Willoughby, 
in  the  name  of  the  parliament,  but  Lord  Newcastle,  with 
his  whole  army  was  rapidly  advancing  upon  it.  The 
queen  having  returned  from  Holland  in  February,  with 
soldiers,  ammunition,  &c.,  had  co-operated  with  New- 
castle, who,  after  having  been  gallantly  withstood,  for 
awhile,  by  Fairfax,  at  length  overthrew  him  at  Atherton 
]Moor  ;  and  following  up  his  victory,  was  on  the  point  of 
wresting  the  whole  of  Lincolnshire  from  Lord  Wil- 
loughby. 

It  was    this   news   that  broudit   Cromwell    and   his 

o 

riders-  so  swiftly  over  the  country.  With  that  sud- 
denness and  darino"  v/hich  characterized  him,  he  threw 
himself  between  the  advance  division  of  Newcastle, 
commanded  by  General  Cavendish,  and  the  tow^n.  Driv- 
ing before  him  a  troop  of  a  hundred  horse,  he  came  in 


68  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

sight  of  the  enemy,  strongly  posted  on  a  steep  hill,  at  the 
base  of  which  ran  a  high  fence,  with  only  one  gateway 
leading  to  the  summit.  It  was  a  spectacle  that  might 
have  daunted  even  a  bolder  heart  than  Oliver's;  for, 
independent  of  the  strength  of  their  position,  the  enemy 
outnumbered  him  three  to  one,  while  on  this  single  gate- 
v/ay  was  kept  up  a  constant  and  destructive  fire. 
Cromwell,  however,  shouting  to  his  men  to  follow,  spur- 
red fearlessly  into  the  gap.  Inspired  by  his  daring,  they 
plunged  after — and  as  they  filed  through  behind  him,  he 
formed  them  by  sections,  and  gallantly  charging  up  hill 
tnrough  the  cloud  of  skirmishers  that  obstructed  his  way, 
gained  the  summit.  Reining  in  his  steed  and  casting 
his  eye  over  the  plateau,  he  surveyed  at  a  glance  the 
whole  extent  of  the  danger  before  him.  Near  by,  in 
close  array,  stood  the  dark  and  overwhelming  squad- 
rons of  the  enemy,  w^hile  in  the  rear,  was  a  full  regiment 
of  horse  in  reserve.  Intending  to  crush  Cromwell  be- 
fore he  could  form  his  troops,  Cavendish  gave  the  order 
to  charge.  Not  waiting,  however,  to  receive  the  shock, 
Oliver  ordered  his  trumpets  to  sound,  and  summ:ion- 
ing  his  followers  on,  fell  with  enthusiastic  shouts  on  the 
advancing  squadrons.  The  shock  was  firmly  met — and 
horse  to  horse,  and  hand  to  hand,  wath  pistol  shot  and 
sabre  stroke,  they  strove  for  the  mastery ;  Avhile  over  all, 
rose  the  war-cry  of  the  Puritans,  and  the  rallying  shout 
of  the  royalists.  At  length,  the  latter  began  to  yield, 
w^hen,  spurring  in  upon  them,  Cromwell  broke  their 
ranks  asunder,  and  scattered  them  over  the  field.  With 
that  quick  perception,  however,  and  great  self-command. 


1637.]  THE    VICTORY.  69 

which  distinguished  him  as  a  leader,  he  instantly  detect- 
f'd  the  threatening  aspect  of  the  still  unbroken  reserve  of 
Javendish,  and  as  quickly  prepared  for  its  onset.  Foui 
troops  of  the  Lincolners  were  all  that  were  left  on  the 
field  to  meet  this  fresh  force,  and  knowing  that  they 
must  go  down  at  the  first  charge,  he  ordered  Whalley  to 
sound  a  recall  and  rally  to  his  troops;  and  arresting  two 
troops  of  his  own  men  in  their  career,  let  the  flight 
and  pursuit  pass  on,  and  wheeled  in  the  rear  of  the  en- 
emy. He  was  hardly  in  charging  order,  before  Caven- 
dish fell  on  the  Lincolners  in  front,  with  such  strength, 
that  they  were  utterly  routed.  The  next  instant,  the 
bugles  of  Cromwell  rung  out,  and  charging  like  fire  with 
his  three  troops  on  the  victorious  royalists,  he  forced 
them  to  the  verge  of  the  hill  and  over  it.  Breaking 
down  the  steep  declivity,  the  terror-stricken  fugitives 
fled  over  the  field,  smote  at  every  step  by  the  swords  of 
the  Puritans.  Cavendish  himself,  plunging  into  a  mo- 
rass in  his  hasty  flight,  was  overtaken  and  slain. 

The  defeat  was  total,  and  Cromwell  marched  in 
triumph  into  the  place  and  relieved  it.  Hearing  of  a 
large  force  in  another  direction,  he  sent  out  his  men,  who, 
instead  of  finding  a  regiment  or  tw^o,  unexpectedly  came 
upon  the  whole  of  Newcastle's  army.  Hastening  to  their 
relief,  Cromw^ell,  by  a  skilful  and  masterly  retreat,  suc- 
ceeded, however,  in  bringing  them  off*  safely.  But  his 
force  was  too  small  to  hold  the  town — and  notwithstand- 
ing his  gallant  and  daring  attempt  to  save  it,  he  was 
compelled  to  retire  before  the  advancing  columns  of  the 
enemv. 


70  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

"  In  the  very  hour  while  Cromwell  was  storming  the 
sand  hills  near  Gainsborough,  '•  by  some  tracks/'  hon- 
orable gentlemen  at  St.  Stephen's  were  voting  him 
governor  of  the  isle  of  Ely.  Ely,  in  the  heart  of  the 
Fens,  a  place  of  great  military  capability,  is  much 
troubled  with  "  corrupt  ministers,"  with  "  corrupt  train- 
bands," and  understood  to  be  in  a  perilous  state,  where- 
fore they  nominate  Cromw^ell  to  take  charge  of  it."* 

DEATH    OF    HAMPDEN. 

But  W'hile  success  w^as  thus  attending  the  arms  of 
Cromwell  in  the  Eastern  Association,  fortune  frowned 
on  the  cause  of  parliament  in  other  parts  of  England : 
for,  added  to  the  defeat  of  Fairfax,  and  overthrow  of 
Waller,  came  the  untimely  death  of  the  brave,  the  noble 
Hampden.  Operating  w^ith  the  army  of  Essex,  which 
watched  that  of  the  king,  he  in  a  skirmish,  on  Sunday, 
with  Rupert's  cavalry,  near  Chalgrove  field,  was  mor- 
tally wounded.  Though  a  colonel  in  the  army,  he  put 
himself  at  the  head  of  a  small  detachment,  and  despite 
the  remonstrances  of  his  friends,  and  the  overpow^ering 
numbers  of  the  enemy,  charged  into  their  midst  with 
his  accustomed  gallantry.  Struck  by  a  brace  of  bul- 
lets between  the  shoulders,  he  turned  his  horse  out  of  the 
fight.  He  was  seen  slowly  leaving  the  field,  before  the 
action  w^as  over,  "  w- ith  his  head  hanging  down,  and  rest- 
ing his  hands  upon  the  neck  of  his  horse."  He  first  mov- 
ed away  tow^ards  his  father-in-law's  house,  at  Pyrton,  but 
*  Vide  Carlyle,  p.  141. 


1643.]  DEATH     OF     HAMPDEN.  71 

his  fading  eye  catching  the  cloud  of  Rupert's  cavalry 
covering  the  field,  he  turned  his  horse,  and  rode  across 
the  country  towards  Thame.  Coming  to  the  edge  of  a 
brook,  he  stopped  and  reeled  in  his  saddle,  then  sum- 
moning all  his  energies,  drove  Ids  spurs  into  his  steed, 
and  cleared  the  ravine  at  a  single  leap.  He,  at  length, 
reached  Thame,  fainting  with  the  loss  of  blood,  where 
his  wounds  v/ere  dressed.  He  hngered  six  days  in 
great  pain,  spending  all  his  time  in  dictating  letters  to 
parHament,  urging  on  them  those  plans  which  his  far- 
seeing  mind  knev/  to  be  indispensable  to  success,  and 
which  the  indolence  and  dilatoriness  of  the  commander 
in-chief  had  hitherto  rendered  abortive.  But  his  final 
hour  drew  nigh,  and  partaking  of  the  last  sacrament,  he 
poured  forth  his  soul  in  prayer.  Even  in  that  solemn 
hour,  the  patriot  plead  more  for  his  country  than  for 
himself  His  choked  and  difficult  utterance  gave  vent 
to  such  expressions  as  "O  Lord,  save  my  bleeding 
country.  Have  these  realms  in  thy  special  keeping. 
Confound  and  level  in  the  dust  those  who  would  rob  the 
people  of  their  liberty  and  lawful  prerogative.  Let  the 
king  see  his  error,  and  turn  the  hearts  of  his  wicked 
counsellors  from  the  malice  and  wickedness  of  their 
designs.  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  soul."  He  then 
paused,  and  as  the  death-rattle  was  gathering  in  his 
throat,  mournfully  exclaimed,  "  O  Lord,  save  my  coun- 
try. O  Lord,  he  merciful  to"  **** — the  sentence  was 
never  finished,  and  falling  back,  his  spirit  fled  to  a  better 
world. 

With   arms   reversed,   muffled   drums,  and   banners 


72  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

hung  in  crape,  his  faithful  and  stricken  soldiers  fol- 
lowed him  to  his  grave  amid  the  woods  of  the  Chil- 
terns,  singing  mournfully  as  they  went,  the  ninetieth 
Psalm :  "  Lord,  Thou  hast  been  our  dwelling-place  in  all 
generations.  Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth, 
or  ever  Thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world, 
even  from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  Thou  art  God. 
Thou  turnest  man  to  destruction  ;  and  sayest,  return,  ye 
children  of  men.  ***  Thou  carryest  them  away  as 
with  a  flood ;  they  are  as  a  sleep ;  in  the  morning  they 
are  like  grass  which  groweth  up."****  Firing  the 
last  volley  over  his  grave,  they  marched  slowly  back, 
singing  the  forty-third  psahn.  Sternly  and  sadly 
rolled  along  their  lines,  "  Judge  me,  O  God,  and  plead 
my  cause  against  an  ungodly  nation:  Oh,  deliver  me 
from  the  deceitful  and  unjust  man.  For  Thou  art  the 
God  of  my  strength :  why  dost  Thou  cast  me  off? 
why  go  I  mourning  because  of  the  oppression  of  the 
enemy  ?"**** 

Could  one  have  heard  that  solemn  hymn,  he  would 
not  charge  those  brave  yet  melancholy  men  with  hypo 
crisy.  Not  over  imaginary  wrongs  did  the  dying 
Hampden  pour  his  departing  soul — not  in  miserable 
cant  did  his  bereaved  soldiers  chant  the  psalms  of  David, 
as  they  bore  him  to  his  last  resting-place. 

Thus  died  the  immortal  Hampden,  shot  on  his  fiftieth 
birth-day.  Pure  in  heart;  just  in  judgment;  cautious, 
yet  daring ;  peaceful,  yet  brave ;  calm,  yet  resolute  and 
firm ;  given  to  no  outbursts  of  passion ;  provoked  by  no 
wrong  to  mahce;  swerved  by  no  oppression  from  his 


1643.]     TROUBLES     IN     THE     PARLIAMENT.  73 

strict  integrity ;  a  true  Christian ;  an  incorruptible 
patriot,  and  a  noble  man,  the  soil  of  England  covers  no 
better  dust ;  and  liberty  mourns  no  more  spotless  a  mar- 
tyr. With  what  feelings  Cromwell  received  the  news 
of  the  death  of  his  cousin,  we  know  not.  But  when  he 
remembered  how  many  such  men  had  been  sacrificed  to 
gratify  the  pride,  the  miserable  ambition  of  a  tyrannical 
king,  no  wonder,  at  the  last,  he  felt  no  misgivings  when 
he  saw  his  head  roll  on  the  scaffold. 

During  this  summer,  parliament  struggled  in  a  sea  of 
difficulties.  For  not  only  w^ere  its  armies  defeated  at 
almost  every  point,  and  the  friends  of  Uberty  struck 
dumb  by  the  death  of  Hampden,  on  whom  the  chief 
hopes  were  placed ;  but  a  conspiracy  against  itself  was 
discovered,  in  w^hich  Edmund  Waller,  the  poet,  was 
one  of  the  principal  actors.  Pardoning  the  treacher- 
ous, whining  and  cowardly  poet,  as  it  w^ould  a  state 
witness,  it  executed  two  of 'his  companions,  and  the  plot 
was  rendered  innocuous. 

The  successes  of  the  royalists,  coming  on  the  top  of 
this  plot,  more  than  counterbalanced  the  news  of  Crom- 
well's succcess,  which  soon  after  reached  parliament. 
The  House  of  Lords  and  Commons  became  divided — 
Essex  was  idle ;  demanding  money,  clothes,  ammunition 
and  arms,  for  his  soldiers — the  queen  had  joined  the 
king,  bringing  reinforcements  of  cannon  and  of  men ; 
and  the  heavens  began  to  brighten  over  the  head  of  the 
besotted  Charles.  Taking  courage  at  this  change  in  the 
aspect  of  affairs,  he  issued  a  proclamation,  declaring  that 
the  parliament  assembled  at  Westminster  was  no  parlia- 
4 


74  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

ment  at  all ;  and  forbade  all  his  subjects  to  obey  that 
"band  of  traitors."  This  foolish  act  immediately  re- 
stored union  between  the  two  houses;  and  on  July 
5th,  they  voted  to  send  commissioners  to  Scotland 
to  ask  its  aid.  Peace  was  restored  in  London;  and 
every  morning,  at  the  beat  of  the  drum,  the  citizens — ■ 
men,  women,  children,  the  old  and  young — repaired  vol- 
untarily to  the  fortifications,  and  there  worked  till  night- 
fall. 

But  while  the  commissioners  were  on  the  way  to 
Scotland,  the  king  coming  to  his  senses  issued  a  milder 
proclamation.  The  House  of  Lords,  sick  of  the  hor- 
rors of  civil  war,  then  sent  proposals  more  moderate 
than  had  heretofore  been  presented.  The  war  party 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  seized  with  fear,  strain- 
ed every  nerve  to  defeat  this  project.  Tumult  was 
again  abroad;  and  at  length,  on  the  9th  of  August, 
a  mob  of  three  thousand*  wom.en,  which  by  noon 
had  increased  to  five  thousand,  assembled  around  the 
House  of  Commons,  demanding,  with  loud  cries,  that 
the  proposals  of  peace  made  by  the  House  of  Lords 
should  be  adopted.  They  penetrated  even  to  the  door  of 
the  hall,  shouting,  "peace!  peace!'*  The  guard  of 
militia  forced  them  back  down  stairs,  firing  a  few  shots 
over  their  heads.  Unintimidated,  however,  they  cried 
out,  "  it  is  only  powder,"  and  began  to  hurl  stones  at  the 
soldiers.  The  latter  then  fired  point  blank  upon  them, 
while  a  squadron  of  horse  charged  into  their  midst. 
Making  a  lane  for  the  cavalry  to  pass,  these  maddened 
women  shouted  forth  curses  and  hailed  blows  on  the 


1C43.]  MOBOFWOMEN.  (5 

riders.  For  a  few  moments,  it  was  a  scene  of  wild  and 
fearful  tumult — swords  flashed  over  dishevelled  locks, 
and  the  strong  war-horse  pushed  against  the  tender 
breast  of  woman.  But  at  length  terror  took  the  place  of 
passion,  and  they  fled,  leaving  two  of  their  number  dead 
in  the  street,  and  some  six  or  eight  more  lying  beside 
them,  wounded  and  weeping. 

The  war  party  triumphed,  and  many  of  the  lords  re- 
tired from  parliament,  refusing  to  take  farther  part  in  its 
proceedings.  Harmony  was  restored,  and  vast  prepara- 
tions were  immediately  set  on  foot  to  renew  the  war. 
By  the  24th  of  August,  Essex  found  himself  at  the  head 
of  14,000  men,  and  immediately  departed  for  Glouces- 
ter, w^hich  the  king  had  been  blockading  for  a  fortnight. 
On  the  5th  of  September,  he  drew  up  his  army  on 
the  heights  of  Presburg,  five  miles  from  Gloucester, 
and  in  sight  of  the  king's  camp.  Charles,  who,  after 
having  in  vain  attempted  to  reduce  this  gallantly  defend- 
ed place,  had  devastated  the  surrounding  country,  now 
hastily  set  fire  to  his  quarters  and  retreated.  Essex  en- 
tered the  town,  the  8th  of  September,  and  two  days  after 
turned  his  steps  back  towards  London.  Rupert,  how- 
ever, with  5,000  horse,  lashed  across  the  country,  and 
faUing  on  the  rear  of  his  army,  made  havoc  for  awhile, 
but  was  at  length  beaten  back.  Still  he  continued  to 
hang  threateningly  on  its  flanks — thus  im})eding  its 
march,  until  the  king,  who,  bent  on  redeeming  his 
error,  had  got  in  front,  and  was  prepared  to  dispute  the 
.further  advance  of  Essex.  On  the  19th  of  September, 
the   earl,   on    approaching    Newbury,    found   his   way 


76  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

blocked  by  the  whole  royal  army,  drawn  up  in  good 
order,  upon  commanding  heights.  A  battle  was  now 
unavoidable,  and  he  pitched  his  camp  within  sight  of 
the  enemy's  lines. 

BATTLE    OF    NEWBURY. 

It  was  a  bright  starht  night,  and  those  two  hosts  lay 
down  upon  the  dewy  grass  with  their  arms  in  their 
hands.     The   next   morning,    at   daybreak,   drum   and 
trumpet  called  the  Puritans  to  arms,  and  Essex  ordered 
a  charge  on  the   principal   height.     It  succeeded,  and 
when  the  unclouded  sun  mounted  the  heavens,  its  flash- 
ing beams  fell  on  a  sulphurous  and  agitated  cloud,  amid 
W'hich,  and  over  which,  glittered  steel  points  and  bur- 
nished helmets,  in  endless  confusion.     It  was  a  hot  day, 
and  many  of  the  royalist  leaders  threw^  aside  their  doub- 
lets,  and  led  their  men  to  the  charge  in  their   shirt 
sleeves.     Amid  the  thick  smoke,  Rupert's  masses  of  cav- 
alry went  plunging  on,  disregarding  alike  the  broken  and 
hilly  field,  and  the  serried  pikes  of  the  infantry.     With 
the  highest  chivalric  feeling  on  the  one  side,  and  reso- 
lute  determined  bravery  on  the  other,  the  battle  was 
terrific.     Neither  party  would  give  way.     Conspicuous 
with  his  white  hat.  Sir  Philip  Stapleton  did  wonders — 
now  leading  up  the  parhamentary  cavalry,  and  now 
steadying  the  raw  militia,  and  infusing  his  owui  daring 
into  the  troops.     Rupert,  who  had  hitherto  found  no  in- 
fantry able  to  sustain  the  shock  of  his  cavalry,  flung  him- 
self again  and  again  on  the  raw  train-bands  of  London. 
This  was  their  first  battle,  but  instead  of  showing  terror, 


1643.]  BATTLE     OF     NEWBURY.  77 

with  their  pikes  advanced,  they  received  every  charge 
with  the  cool  resolution  of  veterans.  On  came  the 
thousands  of  Rupert's  horse,  yet  those  pike  points  never 
wavered,  while  a  rolling  volley  emptied  the  saddles  with 
frightful  rapidity.  Three  times  did  this  maddened  and 
desperate  cavalier  throw  himself  on  those  raw  recruits, 
and  yet  each  time  those  ranks  of  blue  hurled  him 
back.  Thus,  through  the  fresh  and  dewy  morning,  past 
the  hot  noon,  till  deep  twihght,  the  battle  raged. 

At  last,  the  firing  ceased;  and  the  recall  of  the 
trumpets  alone  was  heard,  save  when  a  single  cannon 
now  and  then  shook  the  field.  On  the  ground  where 
they  had  struggled — amid  the  dead  and  dying — the  two 
tired  armies  lay  down  to  sleep.  The  next  morning,  at 
daybreak,  Essex  again  prepared  for  battle,  but  no  enemy 
was  in  sight.  In  the  night,  the  dispirited  royalists  had 
retreated,  leaving  the  road  open  to  London.  The  en- 
raged Rupert  still  hung  upon  the  rear  of  the  republicans, 
but  he  could  not  impede  their  march. 

This  battle  raised  high  again  the  hopes  of  the  patriots. 
The  king  had  been  defeated  wath  the  loss  of  some  of  the 
most  gallant  spirits  in  his  army  ;  four  lords  had  fallen  on 
the  field  which  they  had  struggled  with  the  exposure  of 
the  meanest  soldier  to  win ;  and  among  them  the  young 
and  gallant  Falkland.* 

*  Tliis  young  nobleman  was  distinguished  for  his  learning,  probity 
and  wisdom.  At  the  age  of  twenty,  coming  into  the  possession  of  a 
large  fortune,  he  had  used  it  wisely,  and  fitted  himself  by  study  and 
travel  for  the  highest  station.  But  at  the  commencement  of  the  war 
•he  became  moody  ;  doing  nothing  in  parliament  until  negotiations  of 
peace  were  entered  on  ;  when  he  would  immediately  become  more 


78  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

On  the  25th  of  September,  Essex  entered  London, 
and  was  received  with  acclamations  by  the  people,  while 
solemn  thanks  were  decreed  him  by  both  Houses  of 
Parliament. 

Wliile  affairs  had  thus  been  going  on  in  and  around 
parliament,  but  little  of  note  had  occurred  in  the  Eastern 
Association.  The  Earl  of  Manchester,  the  former  Lord 
Mandevil,  whose  oppression  of  the  tenants  of  the 
Queen's  Manor,  Cromwell,  according  to  Clarendon, 
opposed  with  such  violence  and  passion  in  the  com- 
mittee appointed  by  parliament  to  settle  the  difficulty, 
was  given  the  command,  with  Cromwell  under  him,  as 
one  of  his  four  colonels.  The  latter  soon  became 
second  in  command,  and  w^as  busy  in  raising  recruits 
and  disciplining  his  troops.  Requiring  his  regiment 
to  have  good  horses,  and  keep  them  well,  and  their 
arms  well  burnished,  and  punishing  profanity  and 
drunkenness  by  fines,  he  established  such  order  among 
them,  that  they,  at  length,  became  the  elite  of  the  army. 
Sharing  all  their  toils  and  privations,  he  at  the  same 
time  won  their  affection  and  confidence,  and  could 
carry  them  steadily  even  to  the  cannon's  mouth. 

erect  and  vigorous,  alid  exceedingly  solicitous  to  press  anything  that 
might  promote  it;  and  sitting  among  his  friends,  often  after  a  deep 
silence  and  pregnant  sigh,  would,  with  a  shrill  and  sad  accent,  ingemi- 
nate the  word  peace,  peace.  He  said  that  the  horrors  of  the  war,  and 
desolation  of  the  kingdom  "  took  his  sleep  from  him,  and  would  shortly 
Dreak  his  heart."  This  melancholy  never  left  him  except  on  the  eve  of 
battle  ;  when  he  became  cheerful,  and  where  the  shot  fell  thickest,  and 
the  shock  was  heaviest,  there  he  sought  to  be.  He  was  thirty-three 
years  of  ago  when  he  fell. — Vide  Clarendon,  page  434. 


1643.1  LEAGUE     AND     COVENANT.  79 

The  autumn  of  this  year  was  distinguished  by  events 
which  completely  changed  the  aspect  of  affairs  in  Eng- 
land. The  commissioners,  one  of  whom  was  Sir  Henry 
Vane,  who  had  been  sent  to  negotiate  a  treaty  with  the 
Scotch,  had  succeeded,  and  a  "solemn  league  and 
covenant"  been  drawn  up,  which  waited  only  the 
signature  of  parliament  to  be  binding.  The  main  arti- 
cle in  this  league  was,  that  the  two  kingdoms  should 
establish  a  common  and  uniform  system  of  reformed 
religion,  corresponding  to  that  of  the  Scotch  Church. 
Should  the  English  parliament  subscribe  to  it,  Scotland 
bound  herself  to  raise  a  powerful  army,  to  act  with  the 
rebel  forces  against  the  king.  The  news  of  this  trans- 
action carried  alarm  to  the  royalists,  and  the  king 
immediately  sent  his  commands  to  the  Scotch,  forbid- 
ding them  to  make  such  a  covenant.  Their  reply  had 
as  much  dry  humor  in  it,  as  downright  seriousness. 
They  "humbly  advised  his  majesty  to  take  the  covenant 
himself.'' 

On  the  25th  of  September  the  members  of  parliament, 
together  with  the  assembly  of  a  hundred  and  twenty- 
one  divines,  to  whom  the  covenant  had  been  submitted, 
repaired  to  the  church  of  St.  Margaret,  and  with  heads 
uncovered,  and  uplifted  hands,  took  the  oath,  and 
afterwards  signed  their  names  to  the  compact.* 

After  Cromwell,  who  had  resumed  his  seat  for  awhile 
in  parliament,  for  that  purpose,  had  signed  the  league 

*  The  House  of  Lords  had  now  become  small  in  number,  while  that 
of  the  Commons  was  only  about  half  of  its  original  size,  containing  but 
two  hundred  and  twenty  members. 


80  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  IvI  W  E  L  L  . 

and  covenant,  he  hastened  back  to  Lincohishire,  to  his 
regiment;  where  Manchester  soon  after  arrived  with 
7000  troops.  At  the  same  time,  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax, 
son  of  Lord  Fairfax,  joined  him  with  a  body  of  cavah-y, 
with  which  he  had  escaped  from  Hull,  then  seriously 
threatened  by  Newastle.  Henderson,  a  veteran  officer, 
who  commanded  the  royal  posts  in  this  quarter,  was 
anxious  to  measure  strength  with  Cromwell ;  and  hearing 
of  his  approach  set  out  in  search  of  him. 

WIXCEBY    FIGHT. 

By  a  skilful  manoeuvre,  he  suddenly  appeared,  with  a 
vastly  superior  force,  before  Crom.well  and  Fairfax; 
while  Manchester,  w^ith  the  main  army,  w^as  a  day's 
march  in  the  rear.  It  w^as  Henderson's  plan  to  crush 
this  body  of  cavalry  and  dragoons,  numbering  betw^een 
2000  and  3000,  before  the  arrival  of  the  main  army,  and 
he  seemed  now  in  a  fair  way  to  accomplish  it.  Crom- 
well himself  was  startled,  as  he  saw  the  glittering 
squadrons  suddenly  deploy,  in  great  numbers,  on 
Winceby  field.  His  horses  v.'ere  fagged,  worn  dovv^n 
by  the  heavy  marches  of  the  last  three  days,  and  it  was 
doubtful  how  they  would  stand  the  shock  of  a  fresh  and 
superior  force.  It  was  but  a  moment,  however,  that 
he  hesitated — wdth  his  usual  daring  and  confidence,  he 
gave  orders  to  prepare  for  battle.  In  an  instant,  all  was 
joy  and  enthusiasm.  Fairfax,  catching  the  inspiration, 
exclaimed,  "Come,  let  us  fall  on;  I  never  prospered 
better  than  when  I  fought  against  the  enemy  three  or 


1643.]  WINCEBY     FIGHT.  81 

four  to  one."  It  was  twelve  o'clock  of  a  fine  October 
day,  when  the  watchword,  "  Religion,"  ran  along  the 
squadrons  of  Cromwell.  That  of  the  royalists,  w^as 
"Cavendish,"  who  was  slain  at  Gainsborough.  At 
length,  the  bugles  sounded  through  the  Puritan  host, 
and  away  dashed  those  fierce  horsemen,  shouting  as  they 
went.  They  charged  in  separate  bodies;  falling  in 
like  successive  waves  upon  the  shore,  and  each  singing, 
in  tones  of  thunder,  as  it  charged,  a  psalm  of  David. 
That  lofty  hymn  pealed  on  over  the  deafening  tramp  of 
the  squadrons  and  clatter  of  armor — the  strangest  sound 
that  ever  was  heard  on  a  battle-field.  Cromwell  led 
4he  foremost  body,  shouting,  as  he  rode  at  the  head  of 
his  squadron,  ''In  the  name  of  the  Most  High,  charge!" 
A  volley  met  them  midway,  but  onward,  through  the 
smoke,  still  thundering  forth  that  stirring  psalm,  they 
swept  full  on  the  head  of  the  hostile  column.  At  the 
moment  of  collision,  another  volley  smote  them,  and 
Cromwell's  steed  sunk  under  him.  Extricating  himself 
from  the  struggling  animal,  he  rose  to  his  feet,  but  was 
immediately  struck  down  by  one  of  the  enemy,  who 
were  now  mingled  in  a  hand-to-hand  fight  with  his  fol- 
lovv^ers.  In  an  instant,  a  body  of  horse  closed  around 
him.  Stunned,  but  not  wounded,  he  recovered  himself, 
and  seizing  a  soldier's  horse,  leaped  into  the  saddle, 
and  with  a  thrilling  shout,  dashed  into  the  midst  of  the 
fight.  Broken  through  and  disordered,  the  first  line  of 
the  enemy  fell  back  on  the  reserve,  which  was  also 
tlirown  into  confusion;  and  in  a  half  hour's  time  from 
the  first  charge,  that  noble  array  was  scattered  like  chaff 
4* 


82  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

before  the  wind.  The  chase  was  kept  up  for  six  miles, 
even  to  the  gates  of  Lincoln.  Along  one  lane,  into 
which  the  fugitives  were  crow^ded,  the  carnage  was 
frightful.  The  fields  were  covered  w^th  slain  horses 
and  men — more  than  600  being  killed  outright,  and  as 
many  more  taken  prisoners.* 

This  brilliant  victory  closed  the  campaign  of  1643, 
and  the  partizan  leader,  Cromwell,  began  to  acquire  a 
fame  that  even  that  of  Essex  and  Fairfax  could  not 
overshadow. 

From  this  time  on,  the  revolution  became  essentially 
a  religious  one.  Strengthened  by  its  aUiance  with  Scot- 
land, parliament  had  but  little  fear  that  it  would  not  be 
able  to  make  successful  head  against  the  king. 

All  the  reforms  demanded  in  the  state,  had  now  been 
obtained.  Hitherto,  nothing  was  needed  to  restore 
peace,  except  guarantees  on  the  part  of  Charles,  that  he 
would  adopt  the  changes  that  had  been  made,  and  pre- 
serve the  liberties  and  rights  already  secured.  By  doing 
this,  he  could  at  any  time  have  re-occupied  his  throne. 
But  now,  the  subjects  of  church  government  and  religious 
doctrine  overcame  all  questions  of  state,  agitating  the 
kingdom  from  limit  to  limit,  and  widening  the  breach  be- 
tween the  people  and  their  sovereign.  To  make  mat- 
ters still  worse,  while  parliament  were  negotiating  with 
the  Presbyterian  Scotch,  Charles  had  been  signing  a 
treaty  of  peace  with  the  Catholic  Irish;  and  only  a  few 
days  before  the  ratification  of  the  league  and  covenant, 

*  Vide  Scottish  Dove,  Oct.  13—20,  1643,  cited  in  the  Statesmen  of 
the  Commonwealth  of  England,  page  43. 


RELIGIOUSSECTS.  83 

(he  news  was  received  that  the  ten  regiments  sent  to 
humble  the  Irish  rebels,  had  been  recalled.  These  two, 
so  widely  diverse  acts,  produced  the  greatest  excite- 
ment throughout  England ;  and  "  the  Papist  army,"  as 
that  of  Charles  was  called,  was  looked  upon  with  still 
greater  abhorrence.  From  the  discussion  of  petitions 
of  rights,  grand  remonstrances,  taxation,  and  oppression, 
the  national  mind  passed  to  that  of  church  government, 
and  metaphysical  doctrines ;  such  as  election,  predesti- 
nation, and  perfect  freedom  of  conscience,  in  all  reh- 
gious  matters. 

The  changes  that  followed  the  first  step  against 
religious  oppression,  were  natural,  and  to  be  expected. 
After  political  reform,  religious  questions  came  up ;  and 
the  king  and  established  church  banding  together,  it 
w^as  natural,  if  the  revolution  were  successful,  they 
should  go  down  together,  and  a  different  political  and 
religious  government  be  adopted.  Hence  the  former  be- 
came a  parliamentary  government,  and  the  latter  a  Pres- 
byterian church.  The  Scotch  league  and  covenant, 
gave  a  still  more  definite  form  and  organization  to  the 
church.  But  in  a  revolution  every  irregularity  devel- 
opes  itself — the  restraints  are  taken  off'  the  mind — its 
old  barriers  are  removed,  and  it  is  launched  forth  upon 
an  unknown  sea.  Besides,  reforms  never  stop  where 
those  who  originate  them  expect.  The  very  efforts  and 
arguments  which  embolden  men  to  question  and  reject 
authority  they  have  long  submitted  to,  teach  them,  also, 
to  resist  any  or  all  authority  which  would  fetter  their 
rights,  and  constrain  their  consciences.    Henry  the  VIII. 


84  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  VV  E  L  L  . 

did  not  dream,  that  when  he  taught  the  people  to  reject 
the  Church  of  Rome,  they  would,  in  time,  sift  the 
claims  of  the  system  he  substituted  for  it ;  nor  did  par- 
liament suppose,  when  they  had  freed  the  people  from 
the  Established  Church,  they  would  free  themselves 
from  a  Presbyterian  one.  But  reverence  once  de- 
stroyed, is  not  readily  restored,  and  latitude  once  given, 
not  easily  limited  again.  By  insisting  on  the  right 
to  think  for  themselves,  leaders  of  reform  persuade  men 
to  leave  old  and  hard- worn  ways,  forgetting  that  when 
once  out  on  the  open  common  of  free  thought,  they 
will  make  their  own  paths ;  and  not  all  the  arguments 
and  threats  that  may  be  used,  can  force  them  long  into 
one  track  again.  Reformers  should  remember  this, 
when  they  lead  men  forth  from  the  influences  which 
have  hitherto  bound  them,  and  bid  them  be  free. 
The  field  into  which  they  are  first  allured,  may  be  rich 
and  full  of  promise,  but  if  surrounded  with  a  single 
barrier,  they  will  clear  it,  though  it  were  heaven-high. 
Teach  men  to  think  for  themselves  in  one  case,  and 
they  will  do  it  in  another ;  impart  to  them  the  blessings 
of  liberty,  and  in  their  triumphant  march  they  will  crush 
everything  that  lays  the  least  restraint  upon  it.  It 
was  so  in  England  ;  the  people  who  foreswore  allegiance 
to  the  Romish  Church,  and  rejected  the  Established 
Church  of  England,  finally  crushed  the  Presbyterian 
Church. 

When  each  one  is  allowed  to  think  for  himself,  men 
are  sure  not  to  think  alike ;  and  there  sprung  up  in  Eng- 
land what  is  constantly  seen  here — numerous  sects,  each 


1643,]  RELIGIOUS     SECTS.  85 

strenuous  for  its  own  peculiar  tenets.  There  were  the 
Independents,  who,  discovering  at  length  that  the  Pres- 
byterians assumed  to  lord  it  over  their  consciences 
in  the  same  way  that  the  EstabUshed  Church  had  done, 
repudiated  it  and  the  Scotch  covenant  together — de- 
manded more  freedom  of  belief,  and  asked  for  the 
same  republicanism  in  the  church  that  was  gi'anted  in 
the  state.  There  were,  also,  Brownists,  Anabaptists,  and 
Levellers,  who,  whatever  difference  of  creed  might  sepa- 
rate them,  w^ere  simply  religious  radicals  and  jacobins — 
Fifth  Monarchy  men,  who  believed  in  the  personal  reign 
of  Christ  on  earth  to  constitute  the  fifth  monarchy — 
the  Muggletonians,  and  many  others,  half  sceptics,  or 
unsettled  in  their  belief.  All  these  the  natural  growth 
of  a  revolution  that  had  become  religious,  gradually 
concentrated  their  strength  against  the  Presbyterians  ; 
and  Cromwell  himself  taking  sides  with  the  Indepen- 
dents, the  army  was  ranged  on  their  side ;  and,  in  time, 
the  army,  as  it  always  must  in  a  revolution,  ruled  every- 
thing. 

We  have  thus  carried  forward  the  reader  into  the  reli- 
gious history  of  the  revolution,  to  save  the  trouble  of 
referring  to  the  origin  and  growth  of  the  different  sects, 
frequently,  and  at  the  same  time  give  them  the  promi- 
nence they  deserve  in  the  political  changes  that  follow. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE    EXTRAORDINARY    CAMPAIGN    OF    1644. 

Execution  of  Laud  and  Others — Character  of  Laud — Defeat  of  the  Irish 
Regiments  by  Fairfax — The  Scotch  Enter  England— Cromwell  Joins 
them  before  York— The  King  Defeats  Waller— Rupert  Enters  York- 
Battle  of  Marston  Moor — Cromwell's  Ironsides — Cromwell's  Letter — 
Essex  Defeated,  and  His  Army  Compelled  to  Surrender — Success  of 
Montrose  in  Scofland— Second  Battle  of  Newbury— Cromwell  Ac- 
cuses Manchester  in  Parliament — Is  Accused  in  Turn — Self-denying 
Ordinance — The  Remodeling  of  the  Army— Its  Character. 

The  winter  of  1643  Cromwell  spent  in  raising  funds 
for  his  army,  even  levying  on  the  colleges  in  Cambridge, 
and  the  cathedrals  of  Peterborough  and  Ely,  and  some- 
times according  to  the  report  of  his  enemies,  in  not  a 
very  gentle  or  legal  way.  He  entered  Ely  cathedral  one 
day  when  the  clergyman  was  preaching  against  parlia- 
ment, and  exclaimed  aloud,  "  Leave  off  your  fooling  and 
come  down,  sir,"  which  he  dared  not  disobey.  He  was 
never  idle,  but  strained  every  nerve,  to  be  prepared  for 
the  ensuing  campaign. 

For  a  short  time  in  January,  he  took  his  seat  in 
parliament,  and  made  a  speech  against  Lord  Willough- 
by,  whom  he  had  so  gallantly  succored  at  Gainsbo- 
rough— complaining  that  he  was  backward  in  his  military 
operations,  and  kept  dissolute  people  about  him,  and 
asked  that  Lord  Manchester  might  be  appointed  in  his 


1644.]  laud's     CHARACTER.  87 

place,  which  was  granted.  In  the  meantime,  negotia- 
tions and  plots  were  commenced  and  abandoned  in  and 
around  parliament.  Pym,  one  of  the  earliest  and 
firmest  of  the  patriots,  died  December  8  th,  and  was 
mourned  by  the  whole  nation. 

A  few  minor,  but  still  somewhat  important,  events  oc- 
curred in  the  forepart  of  January,  which  it  seems  neces- 
sary to  mention,  before  we  enter  on  the  stirring  events  of 
the  year.  The  liturgy  of  the  English  Church  was 
formally  abolished,  and  the  prosecutions  long  ago  be- 
gan against  Lord  Macguire,  the  two  Hothams,  Sir 
Alexander  Carew,  and  Laud,  were  taken  up  again — all 
ending  equally  fatally  to  the  accused.  The  execution 
of  these  men  showed  the  severity  with  which  the 
revolution  was  to  be  carried  on  in  future.  The  death 
of  Laud  w^as  uncalled  for.  He  had  sufficiently  expiated 
his  crimes  and  follies,  by  four  years  imprisonment : — his 
favorite  schemes  no  man  now  thought  of  reahzing — 
his  influence  with  the  king  was  over,  in  fact,  his  career 
ended.  Stormy  men  w^ere  now  in  power,  and  a  stormy 
spirit  abroad,  before  whom  and  which  such  weak 
characters  as  his  always  disappear.  No  danger 
was  to  be  apprehended  from  him,  or  at  least  none  that 
banishment  would  not  have  effectually  guarded  against ; 
and  his  death,  therefore,  was  an  unnecessary  act  of 
cruelty.  Indeed,  the  charge  of  high  treason  was  in  no 
way  made  out,  and  he  died  a  victim  to  that  hatred  and 
injustice  he  had  himself  nursed  into  such  strength.  He 
was  innocent  of  the  crime  charged  upon  him ;  and  yet, 
there  w^as  a  retributive  justice  in  his  death.     He  had  un- 


88  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

settled  the  realm — opposed  the  parliament — oppressed 
and  persecuted  the  people.  Indeed,  his  very  accuser, 
Prynne,  was  the  one  whose  ears  he  had  caused  twice  to 
be  cut  off  in  presence  of  the  multitude.  He  had  shown 
no  mercy  to  others ;  and  now,  none  was  shown  to  him. 
So,  that  while  we  condemn  his  judges,  we  cannot  lament 
his  fate.  Still,  Laud  has  probably  been  as  much  malign- 
ed as  Cromwell.  He  was  a  bfgot ;  so  were  many  of  the 
Puritans,  fanatics.  The  former  persecuted  the  dissen- 
ters ;  so  did  the  latter  the  papists.  Laud  hurried  men 
before  the  star-chamber  and  court  of  high  commission, 
and  had  them  punished  for  no  crime  but  that  of  speak- 
ing against  oppression ;  nay,  caused  them  to  be  put  in 
the  stocks,  publicly  whipped,  and  their  ears  cropped  off: — 
equally  violent  measures  were  adopted  by  the  Puritans 
against  the  Irish  Catholics.  Now,  to  allow  for  the 
intolerance  of  the  one,  and  not  for  that  of  the  other,  is 
manifestly  unjust.  The  age  and  the  times  in  which 
men  live,  must  be  taken  into  consideration,  when  we 
judge  of  their  characters.  Laud  was,  doubtless,  a 
sincere  and  honest  prelate.  He  did  what  he  thought 
was  for  the  good  of  the  church.  Believing  that  it  could 
not  prosper  in  the  midst  of  dissensions  and  radicalism, 
he  set  about  their  eradication  in  the  w^ay  he  thought 
best  to  secure  his  object.  That  he  should  see  nothing 
but  discord  and  ruin  in  the  spirit  of  rebellion  against 
the  church  and  the  state,  that  was  abroad,  was  natural. 
There  was  no  more  bigotry  in  his  looking  upon  dissent- 
ers as  criminals,  than  in  the  Puritans  regarding  the 
papists  as  such.     Thus,  while  we  regard  his  career  as 


1644.]  LORD     BYRON     DEFEATED.  89 

mad  and  foolish  in  the  extreme,  we  see  in  it  nothing  so 
inconsistent  as  many  do.  His  cruelties  and  persecu- 
tions indicate  the  weak  bigot,  rather  than  the  unfeeling 
oppressor. 

On  January  22d,  a  new  parliament,  assembled  by  the 
king,  met  at  Oxford  to  repudiate  the  constitutional  par- 
liament, but  it  never  amounted  to  anything,  and  Charles 
was  compelled  to  adjourn  it  in  April,  feeling  that  he 
had  only  added  to  his  embarrassments.  A  treaty  he 
endeavored  to  make  with  parliament  and  Scotland,  was 
equally  fruitless,  while  the  regiments  under  Lord  Byron, 
which  he  had  recalled  from  Ireland — after  six  weeks 
of  success — had  been  almost  annihilated  by  Fairfax. 
Marching  in  the  depth  of  winter,  the  latter  came  upon 
this  "papist  army,"  under  the  walls  of  Nantwich,  in 
Cheshire,  which  the  latter  was  closely  besieging,  and 
fell  upon  it  with  such  fury,  that  out  of  3000  infantry, 
only  1000  escaped.  The  notorious,  and  twice  renegade, 
George  Monk,  was  one  of  the  captives. 

Thus  commenced  the  terrible  campaign  of  1644, 
which  in  its  progress  was  to  deluge  England  with  the 
blood  of  her  children,  and  cover  her  fair  fields  with  the 
slain.  The  Scotch  army,  20,000  strong,  and  marching 
knee-deep  in  snow,  crossed  the  English  borders  on  the 
19th  of  January,  moving  steadily  and  sternly  south. 
The  parhament  had  at  this  time  an  immense  force  under 
its  control.  Essex  and  Waller,  who  commanded  in  the 
central  and  eastern  counties,  had  each  about  10,000 
men ;  Manchester  and  Cromwell  14,000,  while  Fairfax 
was  at  the  head  of  another  strong  army.     To  meet  this 


90  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

formidable  array,  Charles  had  10,000  men  around  his 
person  at  Oxford,  14,000  under  Newcastle,  while  the 
royalist  sections  were  covered  with  larger  and  smaller 
bands  at  his  disposal,  and  Ireland  stood  ready  to  throw 
heavy  reinforcements  over  the  channel. 

The  campaign  opened  in  the  spring  with  extraordi- 
nary exertions  on  the  part  of  both  the  parliament  and 
the  king.  The  former  had  ordered  Lord  Fairfax  to  join 
his  forces  with  those  of  the  Scotch  under  Lord  Leven. 
Defeating  the  royalists  at  Lilly,  commanded  by  the 
governor  of  York,  this  able  general  kept  steadily  on 
his  northern  route,  and  effected  his  junction  on  the  20th 
of  April.  Lord  Newcastle,  commander-in-chief  of  the 
king's  forces  in  those  parts,  was  then  compelled  to  shut 
himself  up  in  York.  The  month  before,  Waller  had 
gained  a  victory  over  Sir  Ralph  Upton,  in  Hampshire, 
and  joining  his  forces  to  those  of  Essex,  the  two  marched 
on  Oxford,  where  the  king  lay.  The  queen,  now  seven 
months  pregnant,  besought  with  passionate  tears  and 
entreaties,  and  at  length  persuaded  her  husband  to  let 
her  depart  to  Exeter,  so  as  to  escape  the  horrors  of  a 
siege.     She  left,  and  they  never  met  again. 

In  the  meantime,  Manchester  and  Cromwell,  with  their 
14,000  men,  hurried  across  the  country,  and  effected  a 
junction  with  Fairfax  and  the  Scotch  army.  The  com- 
bined forces  then  moved  on  York,  and  laid  close  siege  to 
it.  Thus  these  two  important  cities,  occupied  by  the  two 
chief  armies  of  the  king,  were  surrounded  by  the  parlia- 
mentary troops  at  the  same  time,  and  the  crisis  of  the 
great  struggle  seemed  to  have  come.     All  England  was 


1644.]  RETREAT     OF     THE     KING.  91 

breathless  with  anxiety,  and  strong  prayers  ascended 
the  heavens  from  Puritan  hearts,  that  the  cause  of  truth 
and  freedom  might  triumph. 

The  king,  hemmed  in  by  Waller  and  Essex,  seemed 
fated  to  fall ;  but  by  one  of  the  most  skilful  manoeuvres 
executed  on  the  side  of  the  royalists  during  the  whole 
war,  he,  on  the  night  of  the  3d  of  June,  silently  marched 
forth,  and,  passing  unseen  between  the  two  armies, 
reached  Hanborough  at  daybreak,  and  from  thence  pro- 
ceeded rapidly  to  Worcester,  and  afterwards  to  Bewd- 
ley.  While  between  the  latter  places,  he  received  a  mes- 
sage from  Newcastle,  that  unless  relieved,  he  could 
hold  out  but  a  few  weeks  longer.  Charles  saw  at  once  that 
the  fall  of  York  would  secure  his  irretrievable  ruin,  for 
that  immense  northern  army  Avould  immediately  join 
Waller  and  Essex,  already  too  strong  for  him,  and  pre- 
sent a  force  against  which  it  would  be  hopeless  to  strug- 
gle. Sending,  therefore,  in  great  haste,  to  Rupert,  who 
Avas  dashing  over  Cheshire  and  Lancashire,  in  the  south, 
to  move  wath  all  speed  to  the  relief  of  York,  he  turned 
his  attention  to  Waller  and  Essex.  After  the  retreat  of 
Charles  they  separated,  the  latter  moving  westw^ard,  and 
the  former,  by  rapid  marches,  throwing  himself  between 
the  king  and  Shrewsbury,  to  prevent  his  advancing 
south  to  join  Rupert.  But  no  sooner  did  the  king  hear 
of  the  separation  of  the  forces  than  he  wheeled  back  to 
Oxford,  and  entered  it  just  seven  days  after  his  de- 
parture. 

Smartins^  under  the  foolish  chase  he  had  been  de- 
ceived  into,  Waller  hastened  back,  and  rather  precipitate- 


92  OLIVERCROMVVELL. 

ly  gave  battle  at  Cropredy  bridge,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Charwel,  where,  after  fighting  gallantly,  he  was  defeated 
with  great  loss.  Charles  then  marched  after  Essex,  who 
w^as  besieging  Exeter.  But  these  minor  events  were 
suddenly  forgotten  in  the  exciting  tidings  from  the  north, 
of  the  great 

BATTLE  OF  MARSTON  MOOR. 

Rupert,  obeying  the  commands  of  the  king,  swept 
northward  with  an  army  of  20,000  men.  The  news  of 
his  approach  had  been  received  by  the  besiegers,  and 
every  precaution  taken,  and  every  effort  made,  to  inter- 
cept his  march.  But  taking  advantage  of  his  superior 
knowledge  of  the  country,  he,  with  that  celerity  and 
skill  which  distinguished  him,  made  a  wide  detour  to 
the  right ;  and  while  the  combined  armies  were  every 
moment  expecting  an  attack,  quietly  and  undiscovered, 
reached  the  gates  of  the  town.  The  thunder  of  cannon 
and  pealing  of  bells  in  York,  announced,  to  their  aston- 
ishment, that  Rupert  was  actually  entering  the  place. 
All  night  long,  the  inhabitants,  intoxicated  with  joy, 
gave  vent  to  their  exultation  in  bonfires,  illuminations, 
shouts,  and  ringing  of  bells,  till  the  old  towers  of  York 
shook  to  their  foundations. 

Far  different  was  the  scene  on  Marston  Moor;  for 
doubt  and  despondency  hung  over  the  united  hosts.  All 
that  long  summer  night,  the  voice  of  prayer  and  sad 
expostulation  W' as  heard  in  the  army ;  w^hile  the  council 
of  war  which  sat   till  day-break,  w^as  marked   by  the 


1644.]  BATTLE     OF     MARSTON     MOOR.  93 

most  violent  dissensions,  adding  still  more  to  the  dis- 
com-agement  of  the  soldiers.  But  at  early  dawn,  Fairfax 
rode  forth,  resolved  to  abide  the  issue  of  an  engagement. 
In  a  short  time,  the  whole  army  was  in  motion,  and 
by  rapid  evolutions,  soon  changed  front ;  so  that,  instead 
of  facing  westward,  as  it  had  done,  to  meet  Rupert, 
it  now  looked  towards  York. 

Rupert,  on  his  arrival,  demanded  that  battle  should  be 
immediately  offered ;  and  overruling  the  more  cautious, 
and  wiser  proposal  of  Newcastle,  to  wait  for  reinforce- 
ments that  were  hastening  up,  and  also  the  effect  of 
discordant  counsel  in  the  combined  forces,  hastily 
marched  forth  towards  the  republican  army,  eight  miles 
distant,  on  Marston  Moor.  This  was  a  large  plain,  well 
fitted  for  the  meeting  place  of  two  great  armies.  The 
parliamentary  troops,  their  line  extending  a  mile  and  a 
half,  were  drawn  up  behind  a  large  drain  which  trav- 
ersed the  whole  field,  except  on  the  extreme  left,  where 
a  lane,  passing  between  high  banks  and  thorn  bushes, 
cut  it  in  two  and  opened  on  the  level  space  beyond. 
Here  Cromwell,  with  his  terrible  cavalry,  was  posted. 
The  Scottish  foot  occupied  the  centre  and  composed  the 
reserve ;  while  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax,  with  the  Yorkshire 
cavalry  and  two  Scotch  regiments  of  horse,  held  the 
extreme  right,  supported  by  his  brave  father  with  his 
own  infantry  and  two  brigades  of  Scottish  horse.  In 
the  rear  of  the  army  lay  the  scattered  village  of  Long 
Marston,  forming,  with  its  stone  cottages  and  garden 
Willis  and  strongly  enclosed  orchards,  an  excellent  point 
d'appui,  in  case  of  retreat. 


94  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  xM  W  E  L  L  . 

Thus  arranged,  prayer  was  offered  up  at  the  head  of 
each  regiment,  and  exhortations  made  by  the  officers. 
Cromwell  addressed  his  men — as  was  frequently  his 
custom,  as  w^ell  as  pray  with  them,  on  the  eve  of  an 
engagement, — thus  arousing  them  to  that  pitch  of  fiery 
enthusiasm,  which  so  few^  military  leaders  have  been 
able  to  impart  to  their  followers. 

In  the  meantime,  Rupert  drew  slowly  on  with  his 
army  of  nearly  30,000  men.  Soon  the  pike-points  of  the 
infantry  Avere  seen  glittering  over  the  low  bushes  that 
dotted  the  field  in  the  distance ;  and  then  the  heads  of  the 
massive  columns  emerged  into  open  view,  while  squad- 
ron after  squadron  of  Rupert's  splendid  cavalry  came 
winding  over  the  open  plain : — their  long  white  plumes 
floating  back  over  their  gaily  caparisoned  steeds, 
and  their  shining  armor  reflecting  the  sunbeams  with 
dazzling  brilliancy.  Behind,  on  a  rapid  trot,  advanced 
the  artillery,  rumbling  heavily  over  the  broken  ground, 
while  mounted  officers,  galloping  about  in  every  direc- 
tion,   added  still  greater  picturesqueness  to   the  scene. 

On  swept  the  host  in  all  the  splendor  and  pomp  of 
dreadful  war — their  bugles  sounding  cheerily  out,  and 
their  close  and  beautiful  array  foretelling  a  desperate 
struggle  to  ensue.  When  about  a  mile  distant  from  the 
republican  army,  Rupert  halted;  and  a  group  of  officers, 
advancing  in  front,  unfurled  the  royal  standard.  As  it 
shook  its  gorgeous  folds  in  the  evening  breeze,  "  God 
save  the  King !"  went  up  in  a  deafening  shout ;  and  the 
trumpets  hailed  it  with  exultant  blasts.  At  the  same 
time  the  blue  banner  of  the  covenant  was   unfurled, 


1644.]  BATTLE     OF     MAR&TON     MOOR.  95 

"  greeted  by  a  stern  and  solemn  acclamation,  as  different 
from  the  wild  and  animated  clamor  of  the  cavaliers,  as 
is  the  deep  and  incessant  booming  of  the  ocean  surf  from 
the  sharp  keen  explosions  of  a  thunder  storm/'* 

Rupert  took  up  his  position  opposite  the  parliamentary 
right,  where  Fairfax  was  stationed  with  his  cavalry. 
It  was  now  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening — the  cannon 
had  been  playing  since  three— and  the  setting  sun  was 
almost  on  a  level  with  the  glittering  plain,  on  which 
stood  near  60,000  men  in  battle  array.  A  short  pause 
followed,  during  which  the  two  hosts,  waiting  the  signal 
to  advance,  gazed  anxiously,  almost  breathlessly,  upon 
each  other.  Then  a  mass  of  white  cloud,  hugging  the 
earth,  rolled  out  in  front  of  the  royal  force,  followed  by 
the  flash  and  roar  of  artillery,  and  the  great  stiTiggle 
commenced.  Rupert  dashing,  with  his  usual  impetu- 
osity, on  Fairfax  holding  the  right,  after  a  short  but  fierce 
effort,  routed  him  completely.  In  the  centre  the  struggle 
between  the  infantry  was  awful.  Wrapt  in  a  cloud  of 
smoke,  amid  which  rang  the  clash  of  weapons,  and 
shouts  of  men  and  roar  of  guns,  the  stout  yeomanry  of 
the  two  kingdoms  fought  with  a  stubbornness  that  the 
utmost  gallantry  of  the  cavaliers  could  not  overcome. 
"  The  Scotch  delivered  their  fire  with  such  constancy 
and  swiftness,  it  was  as  if  the  whole  air  had  become  an 
element  of  fire  in  the  summer  gloaming  there."  On  the 
left,  Cromwell  with  his  strong  Ironsides,  stood  for  awhile 
and  saw  the  infantry  near  him  mowed  down  by  the  royal 
batteries ;  till,  unable  longer  to  view  the  havoc,  he  turned 

*  Herbert. 


96  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

to  his  men,  with  one  of  those  explosions  of  passion 
which  made  him  so  fearful  in  battle,  and  ordered  them 
to  charge.  Clearing  the  ditch,  he  had  scarcely  formed 
on  the  open  ground,  when  down  came  Goring's  cavalry 
in  a  wild  gallop.  Receiving  them,  as  the  rock  the  waves, 
those  Ironsides,  with  a  shout,  charged  in  turn,  crushing 
the  royal  squadrons  like  shells  beneath  their  feet;  and 
falling  on  the  artillerists,  who  were  making  such  carnage 
in  Manchester's  infantry,  sabred  them  at  their  pieces. 
They  then  rode  leisurely  back  towards  the  ditch,  as  if 
they  had  only  been  executing  a  manoeuvre.  At  this  mo- 
ment, word  w^as  brought  Cromwell  that  the  whole  right 
wing  of  the  army  w^as  routed  ;  and  as  the  smoke  lifted  a 
moment  before  the  breeze,  he  saw  that  it  was  true. 
Fairfax  had  been  borne  w^ounded  from  the  battle ;  and 
the  enemy's  cavalry  careered,  almost  unchecked,  through 
his  broken  and  flying  ranks.  But  from  the  rapid  and 
crashing  volleys  in  the  centre,  and  the  levelled  pikes 
now  advancing  to  the  charge,  and  now  forced  back, 
he  saw  that  it  was  yet  unbroken. 

Twilight  was  now  settling  on  the  field,  and  Cromwell, 
for  the  purpose  of  relieving  the  left,  where  Rupert  was 
dealing  death  amid  the  followers  of  Fairfax,  ordered  his 
squadrons  to  face  to  the  left.  Wheeling  on  his  centre, 
he  saw  Rupert  only  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  exe- 
cuting a  similar  manoeuvre  to  meet  him ;  and  in  a  few 
moments  these  formidable  masses  of  five  thousand 
cavalry,  stood  face  to  face ; — the  plumed,  the  gay,  the 
hitherto  invincible,  horsemen  of  Rupert  on  one  side ;  and 
the  stern  Ironsides,  clad  in  simple  buff  and  strong  stp^' 


1644.]  Cromwell's   charge.  97 

steel,  without  a  decoration  on  their  good  steeds,  or  a 
plume  above  their  helmets,  on  the  other.  Ten  thou- 
sand horses  sweeping  to  the  shock  is,  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, terrific  ;  but  now,  when  two  such  leaders 
as  the  renowned  and  headlong  Rupert,  and  the  stern 
and  steady  Cromwell,  w^ere  at  their  head,  still  more  so. 
Each  knew  the  temper  of  his  antagonist ;  and  each 
resolved  never  to  yield. 

At  this  critical  moment,  Cromwell  saw  a  body  of  royal 
pikemen  advancing  to  turn  the  Scottish  centre,  and  ex- 
posing, in  their  hasty  movement,  their  right  flank  to  his 
horse.  With  that  sudden  inspiration  which  belongs  to 
genius,  he  ordered  a  squadron  to  charge  them  at  once, 
and,  riding  through  their  ranks,  fall  on  Rupert's  flank. 
Saying  this,  he  gave  the  order  to  advance,  and  with  his 
face  blazing  with  excitement,  shouted  "  Forward !"  with 
a  voice  like  a  trumpet  call.  Rupert's  five  thousand  horse, 
pressing  hard  after  their  leader's  gay  banner,  fifteen  feet 
long,  and  streaming  in  the  wind,  were  coming  up  in  a 
plunging  trot,  shaking  the  earth  as  they  moved,  when 
down  swept  Oliver  with  his  Ironsides  like  a  rolling 
rock.  The  shock  in  the  centre  w^as  terrible.  Each 
refused  to  yield  an  inch  ;  and  hand  to  hand,  and  blade  to 
blade,  the  maddened  thousands  struggled  in  close  en- 
counter, while  the  ringing  of  sabres  on  each  other,  and 
on  steel  armor,  was  heard  above  the  trampling  of  steeds 
and  shouts  of  men.  It  was  then  the  detachment  Crom- 
well had  sent  off"  did  him  good  service.  Falling  on  the 
naked  flank  of  Rupert,  it  carried  disorder  through  the 
ranks,  while  the  steady  bravery  of  those  in  front  gradu- 
5 


98  OLIVERCROMWELL. 

ally  forced  rents  through  the  firm-set  squadrons.  At 
length,  victory  declared  for  Cromwell.  Rupert's  re- 
nowned cavalry  were  utterly  broken ;  yet,  disdaining  to 
fly,  they  rallied  in  separate  bodies,  and  charged  home 
wdth  the  energy  of  despair.  Four  times  did  Rupert, 
maddened  by  disappointment,  and  burning  with  rage, 
rally  his  own  favorite  regiment,  and  hurry  them  forward 
with  an  impetuosity  and  daring  that  deserved  a  better 
fate.  But  each  successive  time  they  rolled  back  from 
that  iron  host,  thinned  and  wasted.  Though  wounded, 
Cromwell  still  kept  his  saddle ;  and  calUng  off,  and 
reforming  his  own  regiment,  he  fell  on  Rupert  so  resist- 
lessly,  that  he  was  borne  backward  over  the  field,  and 
finally  turned  in  flight,  pursued  by  the  Puritans  even 
to  the  gates  of  York. 

This  decided  the  battle,  for  the  reserve  squadrons  of 
parliamentary  cavalry,  coming  up  to  the  relief  of  the 
infantry,  broke  through  the  enemy,  and  soon  swept 
the  moor  of  the  last  vestige  of  opposition.  It  was 
now  ten  o'clock,  and  that  field  presented,  in  the  dim 
starlight,  a  heart-rending  spectacle.  Five  thousand 
slain  outright,  lay  strewed  around,  while  thousands  of 
wounded  filled  the  air  with  sad  laments.  And  all  those 
ghastly  bodies  were  Englishmen — brothers,  relatives 
and  friends,  who  had  mingled  in  the  deadly  strife : — • 
Englishmen  slain,  because  a  king  would  rule  in  obedi- 
ence to  his  pride,  rather  than  the  wishes  and  welfare  of 
his  subjects.  And  there  they  lay,  all  martyrs  to  princi- 
ple— the  one  for  the  divine  right  of  kings — the  other  for 
civil   liberty  and  the  rights  of  conscience :    the  proud 


1644.]  THE     VICTORY.  99 

royalist  beside  the  resolute  Puritan:  "the  plumed 
helmet  embracing  the  strong  steel  cap,  as  they  rolled  on 
the  heath  together,  and  the  loose  love  locks  of  the 
careless  cavalier,  drenched  in  the  dark  blood  of  the 
enthusiastic  republican/^* 

The  fruits  of  this  victory  were  1500  prisoners,  10,000 
stand  of  arms,  25  cannon,  and  ammunition  and  stores 
in  abundance.  But  the  greatest  victory  was  the  tri- 
umph which  the  cavalry  achieved  over  Rupert's  famed 
horsemen.  They  had  been  broken  for  the  first  time, 
and  Cromwell  had  done  it.  His  men  were  ever  after 
called  Ironsides;  for  as  no  charge  could  break  them, 
so  no  array  was  ever  able  to  resist  their  onset. 

These  Ironsides  were  stern  religious  men,  who  could 
sing  psalms  through  their  noses,  and  pray  before  going 
into  battle ;  and  he  who  would  walk  over  the  tented 
field  at  evening,  and  listen  to  their  nasal  chantings, 
might  deem  himself  in  a  conventicle  of  monks,  and 
laugh  at  the  thought  of  their  being  warriors ;  but  he  who 
saw  them  with  their  helmets  on — their  sabres  shaking 
above  their  heads,  and  their  flashing  eyes  bent  in  wrath 
on  the  enemy,  sweeping  like  a  thunder-cloud  to  battle, 
would  ever  after  tread  softly  about  their  prayer- meet- 
ings, and  listen  to  their  psalm-singing,  like  one  who 
hears  music  around  the  lip  of  the  volcano. 

This' battle  fixed  Cromwell's  rising  fame,  and  men 
began  to  regard  him  as  invincible ; — while  the  man  who 
seemed  born  to  be  never  beaten,  obtained  the  unbound* 
ed  confidence  and  love  of  the  soldiers. 

*  Vide  Forster's  Statesmen,  657. 


100  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

This  finished  the  king  in  the  western  counties,  and 
lost  him  half  his  kingdom.  A  nephew  of  Cromwell's 
fell  in  this  battle.  His  son  Oliver  had  doubtless  fallen 
before,  perhaps  in  the  very  first  engagement — that  of 
Edcrehill.  In  writing  to  his  brother-in-law.  Col.  Valen- 
tine  Walton,  announcing  his  son's  death,  he  says,  after 
speaking  of  the  action,  and  giving  God  the  glory  of  the 
victory : 


"Sir — God  hath  taken  away  your  eldest  son  by  a  cannon  shot. 
It  brake  his  leg.  We  were  necessitated  to  have  it  cut  off,  whereof 
he  died.  Sir,  you  know  my  own  trials  in  this  way  :  but  the  Lord 
supported  me  with  this,  that  the  Lord  took  him  to  the  happiness 
we  all  pant  for,  and  live  for.  There  is  your  precious  child,  full  of 
glory,  never  to  know  sin  and  sorrow  any  more.  He  was  a  gallant 
young  man — exceedingly  gracious.  God  give  you  His  comfort. 
Before  his  death  he  was  so  full  of  comfort,  that  he  could  not  ex- 
press it.  '  It  was  so  great  above  his  pain.'  This  he  said  to  us. 
Indeed,  it  was  admirable.  A  little  after,  he  said  one  thing  lay 
upon  his  spirit.  I  asked  him  what  that  was  ?  He  told  me  it  was, 
that  God  had  not  suffered  him  to  be  any  more  the  executioner  of 
his  enemies.  At  his  fall,  his  horse  being  killed  with  the  bullet, 
and  as  I  am  informed,  three  horses  more,  I  am  told  he  bid  them 
open  to  the  right  and  left,  that  he  might  see  the  rogues  run.  Truly, 
he  was  exceedingly  beloved  in  the  army,  of  all  that  knew  him.  But 
few  knew  him  ;  for  he  was  a  precious  young  man,  fit  for  God. 
You  have  cause  to  bless  the  Lord.  He  is  a  glorious  saint  in  hea- 
ven ;  wherein  you  ought  exceedingly  to  rejoice.  Let  this  drink 
up  your  sorrow ;  seeing  these  are  not  feigned  words  to  comfort 
you,  but  the  thing  is  so  real  and  undoubted  a  truth.  You  may  do 
all  things  by  the  strength  of  Christ.  Seek  that,  and  you  shall 
easily  bear  your  trial.     Let  this  public  mercy  to  the  church  of  God, 


1644.]  ESSEX     DEFEATED.  101 

make   you  to  forget  your  private  sorrow.      The  Lord  be  your 
strength  :  So  prays 

"Your  truly  loving  and  faithful  brother, 

"  Oliver  Cromwell." 

This  letter  exhibits  both  the  kindness  and  sincerity  of 
Cromwell.  He  sympathizes  with  his  afflicted  relative, 
but  bids  him  do  as  lie  evidently  did,  when  he  lost  his 
son,  "forget  his  private  sorrows"  in  the  welfare  of  his 
country.  No  man  can  read  this  letter  and  doubt  that 
he  considered  the  cause  in  which  he  was  engaged,  the 
cause  of  God,  and  felt  his  own  life,  and  that  of  others, 
to  be  of  small  account,  compared  to  its  success. 

A  fortnight  after  the  battle,  York  capitulated.  Ru- 
pert fled  with  his  remaining  troops  towards  Chester ; 
and  Newcastle,  disgusted  and  discouraged,  abandoned 
his  country.  The  Scotch  army  subsequently  separated 
from  the  parliamentarians,  and  miOved  north  upon  New- 
castle, to  which  it  laid  siege,  and  at  length,  in  October, 
captured  it. 

While  these  events  were  passing  in  the  north,  Essex, 
whom  w^e  left  advancing  v/estward,  began  to  be  sur- 
rounded with  diiflculties.  At  first  victorious,  dispersing 
the  royalists  in  his  path,  and  taking  the  towns  of  Wey- 
mouth, Barnstable,  Tiverton,  and  Taunton,  he  at  length 
resolved  boldly  to  march  into  Cornwall.  He  expected 
the  people  to  rally  to  his  standard  as  he  approached;  but 
they  kept  aloof,  while  the  reinforcements  he  had  demand- 
ed from  Waller  were  withheld.  In  the  meantime,  the 
king  closed  rapidly  on  his  rear,  and  finally  cut  him  off 
from  all  assistance.     This  sealed  the  fate  of  Essex;  and 


102  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Charles  sent  emissaries  to  him,  to  persuade  him  to  join 
the  royal  cause  with  his  army.  But  the  honor  of  ihe 
old  noble  was  impervious,  both  to  bribes  and  threats, 
and  he  sat  sullenly  down  to  abide  the  worst.  Onset 
after  onset  was  made,  and  each  day  brought  a  battle — 
but  alas,  no  victory  to  the  earl.  Closer  and  closer  drew 
the  lines  of  the  king  about  him,  until,  from  the  sur- 
rounding heights,  the  royalists  looked  down  into  his 
exposed  camp. 

Thus  encircled  by  his  foes,  he  ordered  Sir  William  Bal- 
four, commander  of  the  cavalry,  to  cut  his  way  through 
them ;  while  he,  with  the  infantry,  took  up  the  line  of 
march  for  the  sea-coast.  Favored  by  a  dark  night,  and  a 
fog,  the  cavalry  passed  between  the  two  divisions  of  the 
royal  army,  and  escaped ;  but  the  foot,  impeded  by  the 
rain  and  mud,  and  pursued,  on  the  following  day,  by  the 
king,  found  farther  retreat  hopeless,  and  resolved  to  ca- 
pitulate. The  proud  heart  of  Essex,  however,  would  not 
witness  this  disgrace ;  and  so,  taking  only  two  officers 
with  him,  he  fled  to  the  sea-coast,  and  embarked  in  a  ves- 
sel for  Plymouth.  The  command  then  devolved  on 
General  Skippon.  This  brave  and  heroic  commander 
immediately  called  a  council  of  war,  and  addressing  the 
officers,  told  them,  that  their  commander  had  left  them ; 
but  as  the  cavalry  had  succeeded  in  escaping,  their 
case  was  not  so  desperate,  and  that,  by  a  glorious  effort, 
they  might  also  cut  their  way  through  the  ranks  of  the 
enemy.  The  same  God,  he  said,  who  had  protected  the 
cavalry,  was  over  them — at  all  events,  it  was  "  bet- 
ter to  die  with  honor  and  faithfulness,  than  to  live  dis- 


1644.]  BATTLE     OF     NEWBURY.  103 

honorable."  But  he  spoke  to  dispirited  men.  The 
king  proposed  honorable  terms  which  were  accepted-— 
and  surrendering  their  artillery,  ammunition,  and  arms, 
they  marched  sadly  back  over  the  ground  they  had  so 
lately  trod  victorious. 

This  was  September  1st;  and  on  the  same  day,  Mon- 
trose, who  had  succeeded  in  raising  troops  in  Scotland 
favorable  to  the  king,  and  effected  a  junction  v/ith  the 
Irish  sent  across  by  Antrim,  obtained  a  victory  over  the 
republicans  at  Uppermuir.  Eleven  days  after  he  gained 
admittance  into  Perth  ;  and  taking  Aberdeen  by  storm, 
spread  terror  even  to  the  gates  of  Edinburgh.  All 
these  successes  coming  together,  compensated  somewhat 
for  the  defeat  at  Marston  Moor,  and  the  king  took  cour- 
age and  immediately  marched  on  London.  The  parlia- 
ment, however,  rapidly  concentrated  its  forces  on  this 
point — Manchester  and  Cromwell  came  hurrying  from 
the  north — and  by  the  middle  of  October  a  large  ai-my 
was  in  the  field.  Essex,  though  cleared  from  all  blame 
in  the  loss  of  his  army,  and  urged  to  take  the  command, 
resolutely  refused ;  and  gloomy  and  despondent  looked 
with  a  listless  eye  on  the  stirring  scenes  around  him. 
The  chief  command  then  devolved  on  Manchester, 
who  led  his  forces  forth  to  Newbury,  where  the  king 
lay  entrenched. 

SECOND    BATTLE    OF    NEWBURY. 

.  Like  the  battle  of  Edgehill  and  several  other  engage- 
ments, this  took  place  on  the  Sabbath.     The  king's  posi- 


104  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

tion  was  admirably  chosen.  One  flank  was  protected  by 
the  river  Kennet,  while  a  building  called  Doleman's 
House,  with  the  villas,  and  hedges,  and  orchards  near, 
furnished  a  strong  covering  to  the  troops,  Vxho  had  pro- 
tected themselves  still  more  by  throvving  up  embank- 
ments. To  the  north  of  this  there  spread  out  two  open 
fields,  in  which  the  artillery  and  most  of  the  cavalry  were 
placed.  Still  farther  on,  was  the  village  of  Speen,  and 
beyond  it  a  heath  protected  by  a  work.  Here,  for  two 
days,  constant  skirmishes  took  place  between  small  de- 
tachments, with  various  success. 

At  length,  on  Sunday  morning,  the  27th  of  October, 
just  at  day-break,  a  strong  column  of  republicans  moved 
down,  and  crossing  the  river,  fell  resolutely  on  the  wing 
of  the  royal  army ; — ^but,  after  a  short  struggle,  it  was 
rolled  back  with  great  slaughter.  All  day  long  the  thun- 
der of  artillery,  or  rattle  of  musketry,  in  various  parts  of 
the  field,  told  where  separate  commands  were  meeting  in 
conflict ;  but  at  three  o'clock,  the  dark  masses  of  Waller's 
division  were  seen  moving  straight  on  the  heath  at  the 
north,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  battle  became  general. 
Cromw^ell,  as  usual,  commanded  the  cavalry,  and  it  did 
not  lessen  his  enthusiasm,  or  that  of  his  followers,  to 
know  that  it  was  the  Sabbath  on  which  they  were  to 
strike  for  God  and  the  Church.  Relying  on  his  own  ge- 
nius, like  all  great  commanders,  he  overlooked  the  mere 
formal  arrangement  of  opposing  wing  to  wing,  and  cen- 
tre to  centre ;  and  discovering  a  hill  within  musket  range 
of  the  enemy's  hues,  behind  which  he  could  form  his 
squadrons,  he  immediately  ordered  a  movement  in   that 


1644.]  CHARGE     OF     CROMWELL.  105 

direction.  Tiiere,  while  the  battle  was  raging  all  around, 
he  arranged  his  troops  into  two  columns,  and,  giving  the 
order  to  advance,  suddenly  appeared  on  the  summit,  in 
full  view  of  the  enemy.  As  the  dark  masses,  fringed 
with  glittering  steel,  wound  over  the  hill-top,  all  knew 
that  a  terrible  blow  was  about  to  fall,  but  where,  none  but 
the  stern  eye  of  him  who  had  planned  it  could  see.  A 
fierce  cannonade  at  once  opened  the  whole  length  of  the 
lines,  and  in  the  intervals  of  the  explosions  came  the 
sound  of  Cromwell's  trumpets.  The  next  moment  the 
tw^o  columns  divided — the  one  composed  of  twelve 
hundred  horsemen,  with  Oliver  at  their  head,  came  pour- 
ing in  one  wild  torrent  down  the  hill,  shaking  their  sabres 
above  their  heads  and  singing  psalms  as  they  galloped. 
FalHng  on  the  firm-set  ranks  of  the  king  with  irresistible 
fury,  they  tore,  shouting  through  them,  while  the  blades 
that  a  moment  before  shone  in  the  clear  sunlight,  w^ere 
seen  dripping  with  blood.  The  broken  array  divided, 
and  the  fugitives  turned  and  fled,  some  for  Bennington 
Castle,  and  others  for  the  town.  The  other  column, 
composed  of  foot,  paused  awhile  to  watch  the  course  of 
Cromwell  and  his  Ironsides,  and  as  they  saw  them  riding 
down  the  enemy,  they  rushed  with  a  shout  upon  Dole- 
man's  House.  Here  the  carnage  was  terrific.  Forget- 
ting all  danger,  the  excited  republicans  dashed  on  the 
strong  works  that  surrounded  it,  and  though  mowed 
down  with  dreadful  slaughter  still  pressed  forward. 
Hour  after  hour,  they  struggled  under  a  close  and  mur- 
derous fire — portions  cleared  the  hedges,  and  rushed  ovei 
the  open  lawn,  but  were  swept  aw^ay  like  mist  before  the- 
5* 


106  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

■wind.  Five  hundred  fell  on  this*  single  spot,  which  seem- 
ed scarce  large  enough  to  hold  so  many  dead  bodies.  At 
length  the  wreck  of  this  brave  column  retreated,  cover- 
ed by  a  portion  of  the  cavalry,  w^ho  calmly  took  the 
fire  on  themselves  to  save  their  gallant  friends. 

In  other  parts  of  the  field  the  battle  was  equally  des- 
perate— Essex's  old  soldiers  in  particular,  who  were  still 
smarting  under  the  disgrace  of  their  surrender,  performed 
prodigies  of  valor.  They  rushed  like  madmen  on  the 
guns,  and  with  clubbed  muskets  beat  the  artillerists  from 
their  pieces.  When  they  saw  the  cannon  they  had  lost 
in  Cornwall,  they  seemed  possessed  with  the  fury  of 
demons.  Nothing  could  withstand  their  onset.  Break- 
ing over  all  resistance,  they  seized  their  old  pieces  and 
dragged  them  back  with  shouts  that  were  heard  above 
the  roar  of  battle,  and  falling  on  them  embraced  them 
with  tears  of  joy. 

But,  at  length,  night,  which  closes  so  many  scenes  of 
carnage,  shut  in  this.  The  last  flash  lit  up  the  gathering 
gloom;  the  last  sullen  roar  died  away;  and  the  two 
hosts  rested  on  their  arms.  Both  claimed  the  victory, 
but  Cromwell  had  made  such  sad  work  with  the  left 
wing  of  the  king,  that  he  found  his  position  no  longer 
tenable,  and  decided  to  retreat. 

As  the  bright  moon  of  that  Sabbath  evening  rode 
through  the  cloudless  heavens,  its  gentle  beams  lit  up 
one  of  the  ghastliest  scenes  of  war.  Heaps  of  mangled 
men,  dead  steeds,  shattered  armor,  rent  plumes,  and 
pools  of  blood,  lay  as  so  many  witnesses  to  heaven  of 
man's  lust  of  power.      By  the  light  of  that  same  moon 


1644.]  ACCUSES     MANCHESTER.  107 

the  king  drew  off  his  troops,  and  commence'd  a  hasty  re- 
treat. Cromwell  no  sooner  discovered  it,  than  he  urged 
Manchester  to  fall  on  his  rear.  The  latter  refusing, 
Oliver  offered,  with  his  single  brigade,  to  rout  the  whole 
army  ;  still  Manchester  declined.  Promises  and  remon- 
strances were  alike  in  vain ;  and  the  gallant  leader 
of  the  Ironsides,  with  swelling  heart,  saw  the  fruits  of 
the  bloody  day  escaping  his  hands.  In  vain  had  been 
his  efforts — in  vain  the  great  sacrifice  of  men :  the  king 
was  allowed  to  depart  unmolested. 

Late  in  the  morning  some  slight  demonstrations  to- 
wards a  pursuit  were  made,  but  evidently  with  no  inten- 
tion of  engaging  the  enemy.  Cromwell  was  still  more 
exasperated,  w^hen  the  king,  having  been  reinforced  by 
Rupert,  came  back  twelve  days  after,  and  right  in  the 
face  of  the  army  carried  off  all  the  cannon,  stores, 
&c.,  from  Bennington  Castle,  without  a  blow  being 
struck  to  prevent  it.  It  is  said  that  Manchester,  in 
reply  to  his  remonstrance,  declared,  that  the  king,  if 
beaten,  would  be  king  still,  and  able  to  raise  another 
army,  w^hile,  if  they  were  defeated,  they  would  all  be 
hung  as  rebels.  Such  vacillation  of  purpose  and 
weakness,  nay,  culpable  remissness,  roused  all  the  fire 
in  Cromwell's  nature.  Instead  of  being  disheartened, 
or  of  venting  his  spleen  in  murmurs,  he  resolved  at 
once  to  crush  his  superior.  The  noble  cause  in 
which  he  was  struggling  should  not  be  sacrificed  with- 
out an  effort;  and  hastening  to  parliament,  he  boldly 
accused  him  of  misconduct — of  secretly  favoring  the 
enemy,  by  not  pressing  the  advantages  thrown  in  his 


1 08  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  VV  E  L  L  . 

V7ay — in  short,  of  being  a  trustless  commander.  He 
not  only  pressed  these  accusations  with  all  the  energy 
and  passion  that  distinguished  him,  but,  before  he 
finished,  shook  dim  menaces  over  both  king  and  lords; 

Manchester,  a  few  days  after,  replied  to  these  heavy 
charges,  accusing  Cromwell,  in  turn,  of  insubordination ; 
of  once  replying  to  his  request  to  perform  some  service 
with  his  horse,  that  if  "  his  lordship  wanted  to  have 
the  skins  of  the  horses,  that  was  the  way  to  get 
them  ;"*  and  of  treachery,  in  refusing  to  obey  his 
commands  on  the  battle-field ;  and  further,  of  having 
openly  declared,  that  "there  would  never  be  a  good 
time  in  England,  till  we  had  done  with  lords  ;  and  he, 
the  Earl  of  Manchester,  become  again  plain  Mr.  Mon- 
tague"— plain  words  for  a  subordinate  to  utter  to  a 
commander,  in  those  olden  times  of  great  reverence  for 
authority. 

These  sudden  outbursts  exhibit  the  stormy  nature  of 
the  man,  and  show  clearly  that  he  foresaw  the  course 
the  revolution  must  take,  to  be  successful.  The  Pres- 
byterians began  to  be  alarmed.  The  leader  of  the  In- 
dependents was  evidently  arraying  his  forces  against 
them  and  their  officers,  and  resolutely  bent  on  reform. 
The  bold  position  he  assumed,  called  to  their  remem- 
brance the  motion  he  made  in  parliament  after  the 
battle  of  Marston  Moor — that  a  committee  might  be 
appointed  to  reconcile  the  differences  of  opinion  in 
members  of  the  assembly  on  church  government ;  and 
if  it  could  not  be  done,   to  devise  some  measure  by 

•  Vide  Rushworth,  Pari.  Hist.     Clarendon. 


1644.]  PLOT     AGAINST     HIM.  109 

which  dissenters  from  the  Presbyterians  might  be  pro- 
tected, indeed,  "  home  with.'' 

Tlie  union  with  Scotland  he  evidently  condemned, 
and  wished  it  dissolved,  for  he  would  have  no  man's 
conscience  fettered  by  rigid  formulas;  while  it  was 
indispensably  necessary  that  the  fastidious  leaders  who 
still  clung  to  the  king  should  be  removed,  and  the 
unchained  energies  of  freemen,  not  afraid  to  strike 
home  for  liberty  and  religion,  allowed  to  have  way. 
Vane  was  his  right  hand  man  in  carrying  out  these  plans : 
Ireton  clung  to  him ;  Marten,  the  young  Ludlow,  Fair- 
fax, and  Milton,  were  his  friends. 

This  fiery  orb  that  had  moved  so  slowly  into  the 
political  sphere  of  England,  began  now  to  mount  the 
heavens  ;  and  no  wonder  the  Presbyterian  leaders  were 
alarmed  at  its  progress,  and  the  daring  path  it  was 
choosing.  They  again  opened  negociations  with  the 
king,  who  had  now  taken  up  his  winter  quarters  at 
Oxford. 

In  the  meantime,  an  effort  was  made  to  ruin  Oli- 
ver; and  the  Presbyterian  leaders,  and  Scotch  commis- 
sioners, met  at  Essex's  house,  to  devise  means  for 
carrying  out  their  plans.  The  Lord  Chancellor  of 
Scotland  first  spoke;  and  addressing  Whitelocke  and 
Maynard,  told  them,  the  wish  and  purpose  was  to  get 
rid  of  Cromwell  in  some  way,  w^ho  was  a  firebrand 
between  the  two  nations,  and  an  enemy  of  "  his  excel- 
lency." Said  he,  "  You  ken  vary  weel  the  accord 
.'twixt  the  twa  kingdoms,  and  the  union  by  the  solemn 
league    and  covenant ;  and  if  any  he  an    incendiary 


110  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

between  the  twa  nations,  how  he  is  to  he  proceeded 
against  V  He  then  wished  to  know  if  Cromwell  was 
not  such  an  incendiary;  and  if  so,  how  they  should 
enter  on  the  prosecution  ?  for,  said  he,  if  it  can  be 
proved  against  him,  we  will  "  clepe  his  luings  from 
soaring  to  the  prejudice  of  our  cause.''  It  was  easy 
enough  to  talk;  but  when  it  came  to  the  point  who 
should  be  the  man  to  "  clepe  the  wings  "  of  the  soaring 
bird,  no  one  dared  to  attempt  it.  Whitelocke  gravely 
shook  his  head  at  the  word  "  incendiary,''  spoke  about 
proofs,  &c. ;  but,  at  length,  came  to  the  grand  difficulty 
in  the  way,  viz.,  ''Lieutenant  General  Cromwell  is 
a  man  of  quick  and  subtle  parts,  and  one  who  hath, 
especially  of  late^  gained  much  interest  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  nor  is  wanting  of  friends  in  the  House 
of  Peers;  nor  of  abilities  in  himself  to  manage  his  own 
part  in  defence  to  the  best 'advantages."*  That  is,  in 
plain  English ;  "  Gentlemen,  I  take  this  Cromwell  to  be 
rather  a  dangerous  sort  of  a  man  to  meddle  wdth — bold, 
able,  resolute,  and  penetrating.  The  enemy  w^ho  en- 
counters him,  will  have  to  look  well  both  to  himself  and 
his  cause. 

The  project  was  abandoned  ;  and  the  bold  Independ- 
ent, who  knew  all  about  it,  laid,  in  turn,  a  plot  of  his 
own,  w^iich  he  sprung  to  some  purpose  on  the  alarmed 
Presbyterians.  A  day  of  fasting  and  prayer  w^as  set 
apart  to  consider  the  state  of  the  kingdom  :  the  clergy 
preached  on  the  subject;  Vane  and  Cromwell  had 
thought  of  it ;    and  planned,  too,   how  they  should  get 

•  Vide  Whitelocke. 


l644.]  SELF-DENYING     ORDINANCE.  Ill 

such  men  as  Essex,  Waller,  and  Manchester,  indeed, 
the  whole  remaining  leaven  of  loyalty,  out  of  ths 
army.  At  length,  everything  being  prepared,  parlia- 
ment, expecting  some  grand  move,  was  sitting,  on  the 
9th  of  December,  in  "  grand  committee,"  silent  and  som- 
bre, when  Cromwell  arose,  and  said,  "  It  is  now  a  time  to 
speak,  or  forever  hold  the  tongue.  The  important 
occasion,  now,  is  no  less  than  to  save  a  nation  out  oj 
a  bleeding,  nay,  almost  dying  condition!'  He  then  went 
on  to  state,  that  unless  the  war  was  more  vigorously 
prosecuted,  the  kingdom  would  get  weary  of  it,  and 
force  them  to  a  dishonorable  peace.  The  army,  he  de- 
clared, must  be  newly  modelled,  and  put  under  new  com- 
manders. With  consummate  tact  he  deprecated  any 
investigation  of  the  conduct  of  the  present  chief  of- 
ficers. Their  errors  and  their  good  deeds  were  both 
past — let  them  rest — and  a  remedy  for  existing  evils  be 
applied  without  any  reference  to  them.  In  another 
part  of  the  debate,  in  allusion  to  the  objection  against 
calling  them  from  the  army  to  sit  in  parliament,  be- 
cause it  would  dispirit  the  soldiers,  he  declared  he  could 
answer  for  his  own  men;  saying,  "They  look  not 
upon  me,  but  upon  you ;  and  for  you  they  ivill  fight, 
and  live  and  die  in  your  cause."  A  motion  was  then 
made,  that  no  member  of  parliament  should  hold  any 
civil  or   military   office. 

This  was  the  famous  self-denying  ordinance,  which 
after  much  debate,  amendments,  &c.,  was  finally  shaped 
so  that  it  simply  discharged  all  members  of  parliament 
from  the  offices  they  then  held.     This  cutting  off  the 


112  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

prospective  part  of  the  act,  leaving  to  pailiament  the 
power,  in  future,  if  it  chose,  to  appoint  its  members 
to  office,  was  done,  it  is  said,  to  keep  Cromwell  in  the 
army.  At  all  events,  Cromw^ell's  proposal  effectually 
shut  the  door  on  his  own  career.  He  moved  to  blot 
out  his  own  ambitious  prospects,  if  he  had  any,  and 
leave  to  others  the  laurels  within  his  grasp. 

The  fact  that  parliament  and  the  kingdom  could  not 
do  without  him,  and  he  ran  a  more  brilliant  career  from 
the  very  ordinance  which  in  all  probability  would  end 
it,  has  thrown  suspicion  upon  his  integrity.  When  ene- 
mies go  on  mere  probabilities,  there  are  no  conclusions 
too  absurd  or  too  unjust  for  them  to  draw.  That  Crom- 
well designed  to  oust  the  old  commanders,  and  did  do  it, 
no  one  doubts — but  that  he  expected  to  gain  anything 
by  it,  is  untrue ;  for  a  new  commander-in-chief  and  all 
the  superior  officers  were  appointed,  and  he  left  out — offi- 
cers, too,  with  whom,  even  if  he  retained  his  rank,  he 
could  not  compete  so  easily  as  with  the  old  ones.  He 
caused  better  leaders  to  be  placed  over  him,  and  hence 
threw  greater  obstacles  in  the  way  of  his  advancement. 
He  acted  solely  for  the  public  good. 

The  passage  of  this  bill,  a  clause  of  which  allowed 
men  to  serve  without  taking  the  covenant,  placed  the 
army  in  the  hands  of  the  Independents.  By  one  sec- 
tion it  w^as  decreed  that  the  military  of  the  three  king- 
doms, should  be  put  on  a  "  new^  model,"  and  the  three 
armies,  of  10,000  men  each,  be  consolidated  into  one 
army  of  20,000. 

Tn  effecting  this,  a  great  change  in  the  morale  of  the 


1644.]  CHARACTER     OF     THE     ARMY.  113 

army  was  produced.  The  officers  and  men  withdrawn 
were  the  least  able,  and  most  dissolute ;  so  that  a  great 
purification  resulted  from  the  reduction.  Fairfax  was 
appointed  Lord  General,  and  the  brave  Skippon,  made 
a  Major  General.  The  new  Lieutenant  General  who 
was  to  fill  Cromwell's  place  was  not  named,  but  those 
who  saw  the  blank  were  not  long  in  guessing  who  would 
command  the  cavalry. 

Cromwell  superintended  the  remodelling  of  the  army, 
and  guided  by  the  same  principles  which  governed 
him  in  selecting  his  band  of  Ironsides,  he  finally  pre- 
sented parliament  with  a  body  of  soldiers,  the  like 
of  which  was  never  seen.  Republicans  in  principle, 
and  enthusiasts  in  religion,  they  looked  with  contempt 
on  all  earthly  distinctions,  and  feared  God  alone.  "  In 
their  devotional  retirement,  they  prayed  with  convul- 
sions, and  groans,  and  tears.  They  were  half  maddened 
by  glorious  or  terrible  illusions.  They  heard  the  lyre  of 
angels,  or  the  tempting  whisper  of  fiends.  But  when 
they  girt  on  the  sword  of  war,  those  tempestuous  work- 
ings of  the  soul  left  no  perceptible  trace  behind  them."* 
With  that  flashing  above  their  heads,  and  the  Psalms 
of  David  on  their  lips,  they  moved  with  shouts  to  the 
harvest  of  death.  Set  apart  by  God  to  accomplish  a 
great  work — each  a  "vessel  of  glory,"  and  ordained  to 
eternal  life,  they  looked  upon  the  slaughter  of  their  foes 
as  they  did  upon  the  destruction  of  the  heathen  before 
the  march  of  the  Israelites  to  Canaan.  "  The  sword  of 
the  Lord  and  of  Gideon,"  heralded  many  a  wild  shock  of 

•  See  Macauley's  Review  of  Milton. 


114  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

cavalry.  To  such  men  the  severe  discipUne  adopted  by 
Cromwell  was  not  irksome.  Theft,  profanity,  drunken- 
ness, lewdness — what  had  they  to  do  with  these  who  were 
standing  on  the  threshold  of  eternal  glory.  Against  the 
stern  valor  and  headlong  enthusiasm  of  such  men,  what 
were  the  older  discipline,  the  science  and  gallant  chiv- 
alry of  the  corrupt  and  profligate  cavalier.  Under 
privations,  toil  and  pain,  they  would  bear  up  with  the 
resolution  of  martyrs. 

Never  before,  had  an  army  been  composed  of  such 
strange  and  terrific  material ;  yet  the  friends  of  Charles 
took  courage  when  they  saw  w^hat  troops  and  leaders — 
being  nearly  all  common,  untitled  men — he  would  hereaf- 
ter be  compelled  to  meet. 

It  required  great  self-confidence  and  nerve  in  Crom- 
w^ell,  to  dare  depart  so  far  from  old  rules,  and  put  reli- 
gious enthusiasm  and  courage  against  the  science  of  the 
world.  But  he  relied  more  on  the  rushing  charge,  than 
the  well-formed  line  of  battle,  and  thus  set  an  example 
which  Bonaparte  afterw^ards  copied  successfully.  That 
an  army  composed  of  such  materials,  so  disciplined  and 
so  commanded,  should  soon  change  the  aspect  of  affairs, 
and  w^in  for  itself  a  reputation  unsurpassed  in  the  annals 
of  history,  republicans  of  this  age  can  well  imagine,  but 
in  those  times,  it  seemed  almost  a  miracle.  Fairfax,  Ire- 
ton,  Skippon,  and  last  of  all,  Cromwell,  became  four  terri- 
ble names  in  England,  and  as  much  dreaded  on  the  field 
of  battle,  as  Henry  Vane's  in  the  Hall  of  Parliament. 

Nothing  shows  the  practical  sagacity  of  Cromwell, 
more  than  his  introduction  of  the  religious  sentiment  into 


1644.]  THE     PURITAN     ARMY.  115 

the  army.  Bonaparte  couid  not  do  this,  and  so  he  did 
the  next  best  thing — instilled  the  love  of  glory.  The  for- 
mer made  religion  popular  in  the  army  and  in  the  king- 
dom, and  his  bulletins  to  parliament  were  more  like  the 
letters  of  a  clergyman  to  his  presbytery,  than  the  reports 
of  a  general  to  his  government,  Scripture  phrases  came 
into  common  use,  and  custom  soon  made  proper  and 
natural,  what  now  seems  to  us  the  mere  cant  of  hypoc- 
risy. It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  that  the  solemn  look  and 
nasal  tone,  and  Bible  language  of  the  Puritans,  always 
indicated  piety.  These  things  became  the  fashion — 
made  common,  it  is  true,  by  a  strong  religious  feeling ; 
and  fashion  would  make  the  people  of  New  York  talk  in 
the  same  strain. 

Cromw^ell  naturally  adopted  the  same  language — for, 
with  all  his  religious  sincerity,  he  was  as  much  of  an 
enthusiast  as  his  most  ardent  follower,  and  felt  himself 
an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  God,  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  a  great  work.  It  is  a  little  singular,  that  all  those 
great  men  who  have  effected  sudden  and  unexpected 
changes  in  human  affairs,  have  always  regarded  them- 
selves under  the  influence  of  a  special  destiny.  If  a 
heathen,  he  has  been  the  favorite  of  the  gods ;  if  a  Chris- 
tian, like  Cromwell,  the  mere  agent  of  Supreme  Power ; 
if  an  unbeliever,  like  Napoleon,  under  the  influence  of 
some  star. 


CHAPTER   V. 

CAMPAIGN  OF  1645  TO  THE  SPRING  OF   1646. 

Cromwell's  Commission  Extended — Affair  of  Islip  Bridge — Bletch- 
ington  House,  Witney — Bampton  Bush — The  IVIain  Army  in  Motion 
— Cromwell  Sent  to  Cambridge — Recalled  and  Joins  Fairfax — Bat- 
tle of  Naseby — Cromwell's  Letters  to  the  House  of  Commons — 
Cromwell  Relieves  Leicester — Takes  Bridgewater  and  Puts  Goring 
to  Flight — Disperses  the  Clubmen — Storming  of  Bristol — Cromwell 
Takes  Devizes,  Berkley  Castle  and  Winchester — Storm  and  Sack- 
ing of  Basing  House — Cromwell  Defeats  Lord  Wentworth — Joins 
Fairfax  and  Takes  Dartmouth — Defeats  Lord  Hopton — Movements 
of  the  King,  meanwhile — Defeat  of  Lord  Astley — Negotiations  again 
Opened  wdth  Parliament — The  King  Flies  to  the  Scottish  Camp. 

In  the  spring  of  this  year,  Charles  sent  his  son  into 
Wales,  as  generalissimo  of  the  forces  there,  and  never 
saw  him  again.  In  the  meantime,  he  received  the  news 
of  the  new  organization  of  the  parliamentary  army, 
which  filled  him  and  his  officers  with  extravagant  joy. 
All  the  old  and  scientific  commanders,  and  men  of  rank, 
had  been  turned  out,  and  obscure,  unknown  persons 
appointed  in  their  places.  "A  mob  of  peasants  and 
preaching  mechanics,"  as  they  were  derisively  termed, 
was  now  the  only  opposition  he  had  to  contend  against ; 
and  over  tnese  the  gallant  cavaliers  would  ride  un- 
checked; sorry  only  that  they  had  not  foemen  more 
worthy  of  their  steel.     Ribald  songs  were  made  in  their 


1645.]  AFFAIR     OF     ISLIP     BRIDGE.  117 

honor ;  and  royalist  wit  expended  itself  in  jests  and  puns 
on  the  republican  troops. 

Oliver,  who,  during  the  early  part  of  the  spring,  had 
been  busy  in  re-organizing  the  army  and,  with  Waller, 
endeavoring  to  check  Goring  and  Rupert  in  the  West, 
now,  in  the  latter  part  of  April,  came,  in  compliance 
with  the  self-denying  ordinance,  to  the  head-quarters 
of  Fairfax  at  Windsor,  to  "kiss  the  general's  hand," 
and  resign  his  commission.  The  next  morning,  how- 
ever, he  received  directions  from  the  committee  of  the 
two  kingdoms  to  take  some  squadrons  of  horse  and  in- 
tercept a  convoy  of  2000  men,  sent  by  Rupert,  lying  at 
Worcester,  to  fetch  the  king,  with  the  artillery  from 
.  Oxford. 

Without  a  moment's  delay,  Cromwell  commenced  his 
preparations ;  and  at  evening,  a  gallant  array  was  seen 
winding  out  of  Windsor,  and  stretching  in  a  long  Hne 
over  the  country.  The  next  day,  April  24th,  he  fell  on 
this  army  at  Islip  Bridge,  and  routed  it,  taking  sev- 
eral prisoners  and  a  standard  which  had  been  presented 
by  the  queen  to  her  regiment.  The  same  day,  he  took 
Bletchington  House  with  dragoons  alone.  Two  days 
after,  he  again  beat  the  army  at  Witney ;  and  dashing 
across  the  country,  fell  on  the  royalists  at  Bampton 
Bush ; — thus,  in  five  days,  the  first  of  the  new  army  in  the 
field,  fighting  three  battles,  and  victorious  in  all.  Two 
days  after,  he  summoned  the  governor  of  Farringdon, 
whom,  with  the  garrison  he  had  forced  into  the  house 
of  the  former,  to  surrender.  A  refusal  being  returned, 
he^  the  next  day,  stormed  the  house ;  but  was  repulsed, 


118  OLI  V  ER     CR  0  M\V  ELL. 

with  the  loss  of  fourteen  men  and  a  captain.  Wheel- 
ing back  on  his  path,  he  hastened  to  join  the  main 
army,  which  he  heard  had  put  itself  in  motion. 

Charles  having  effected  his  junction  with  Rupert,  the 
two  marched  northward  to  relieve  Chester,  or  attack 
the  Scottish  army,  as  circumstances  might  direct.  In 
the  meantime,  parliament  resolved  that  Cromwell 
should  not  resign  at  present,  and  extended  his  com- 
mission. 

The  movement  of  the  army,  on  the  30th  of  April,  was 
the  occasion  of  great  excitement  among  the  Puritans  of 
London.  Parliament  passed  an  ordinance  that  all  the 
preachers  should  pray  for  its  success ;  and  strong  pray- 
ers went  up  that  the  Lord  of  Hosts  would  be  its  defence, , 
and  lead  it,  as  he  did  the  army  of  Israel,  to  victory. 

All  this  time,  the  king  was  moving  northward ;  Avhile 
Fairfax  marched  to  Oxford,  and  invested  it.  Cromwell 
had  hardly  joined  him  here,  before  he  was  ordered,  in  all 
haste,  to  the  eastern  counties,  whither,  the  king,  driving 
the  Scottish  army  before  him,  was  rapidly  advancing. 
These  were  the  stronghold  of  republicanism ;  and  hence 
of  vital  importance  to  Parliament.  He  took  up  his  quar- 
ters in  Cambridge ;  but  had  scarcely  been  there  a  week 
before  he  was  recalled.  The  king  had  turned  aside  and 
stormed  Leicester,  and  given  it  over  to  the  brutality  of 
the  soldiers.  Taunton,  too,  had  fallen ;  and  doubt  and 
uncertainty  began  to  take  the  place  of  confidence 
respecting  the  new  army. 

While  these  brilliant  successes  were  being  achieved 
by   the   king,   Fairfax   lay   idle   before   Oxford,   which 


1645.]         HIS     RECEPTION     BY     THE     ARMY.  119 

caused  universal  dissatisfaction  and  complaint.  At 
length,  being  ordered  to  raise  the  siege  and  pursue 
Charles,  he  petitioned  parliament  that  Cromwell  might 
accompany  him;  as  he  could  not  do  without  his  aid. 
This  petition,  signed  by  himself  and  sixteen  colonels, 
was  granted;  and,  June  12th,  holding  his  old  rank  as 
lieutenant-general,  Oliver  was  seen  sweeping  across 
the  country  with  his  trusty  squadrons.  As  those  six 
thousand  horsemen  filed  into  view  of  Fairfax's  army 
at  Northampton,  a  loud  shout  went  up  like  the  cry  of 
"  vive  Vempereur,''  with  which  the  French  soldiers  were 
wont  to  greet  the  appearance  of  Napoleon.  New  hope 
visited  every  breast,  as  they  saw  this  favored  child  of 
victory  leading  his  terrible  Ironsides  to  their  assistance. 
Prompt  and  decided,  his  presence  wrought  a  sudden 
change  in  the  army ;  and  on  that  very  night  Ireton  was 
sent  forward  to  attack  the  king's  outposts.  The  latter, 
blind  to  his  danger,  and  elated  with  the  news  of  Mont- 
rose's victory  over  the  rebels  in  Scotland,  had  leisurely 
pursued  his  way,  stopping  to  hunt  and  amuse  his  officers, 
as  if  no  storm  was  gathering  darkly  behind.  But  when 
he  heard  that  the  repubHcans  were  attacking  his  rear- 
guard, and  driving  in  his  outposts,  he  awoke  as  from  a 
dream.  His  enemy,  who  seemed  to  take  things  as  lei- 
surely as  himself,  and  keep  at  a  cautious  distance,  now 
all  at  once,  could  not  wait  for  daylight  before  he  brought 
on  an  engagement.  The  reason  of  this  sudden  activity 
is  thus  given  significantly  by  Guizot,  in  one  short  sen- 
tence :  "  Cromwell  had  been  with  the  army  for  several 
hours."     His  presence  inspired  the  troops  with  the  en- 


120  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

ergy  and  daring  which  characterized  all  his  movements, 
and  which  never  could  brook  a  lazy  pursuit.  He  was 
always  restless  and  urgent  till  he  found  his  enemy ;  and 
then  pressed  him  with  such  vigor,  that  he  compelled 
him  to  take  refuge  in  a  rapid  and  disorderly  flight,  or 
turn  at  bay. 

The  king,  now  fairly  awake  to  his  danger,  hastily 
called  a  council  of  war,  which  from  the  opposite  views 
that  agitated  its  deliberations,  did  not  break  up  till 
midnight.  Through  Prince  Rupert's  influence,  how- 
ever, it  was  at  length  decided  to  face  about  and  meet 
the  enemy.  The  king,  not  many  weeks  before,  had  said, 
"  Oh  that  some  one  would  bring  me  this  Cromwell,  dead 
or  alive !"  and  now  he  had  still  greater  cause  to  utter 
the  wish. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  NASEBY. 

Nothing  shows  the  promptness  and  energy  of  Crom- 
well more  than  his  conduct  in  bringing  on  and  fighting 
this  battle.  He  received  orders  to  join  Fairfax  on  the 
12th  of  June :  on  the  evening  of  the  thirteenth,  he  led 
his  forces  into  camp ;  and  that  same  night,  despatching 
Ireton  to  attack  the  royalists,''six  miles  distant,  brought 
on  the  battle  the  next  day,  which  before  sunset  he  had 
won,  and  saved  England. 

Naseby  is  a  small  straggling  hamlet,  lying  in  the  heart 
of  England.  The  country  around  it,  at  this  time,  v/as 
unenclosed,  with  swelling  uplands  and  broad  tracts  of 
moor  between.  The  republican  army  had  drawn  for- 
ward in  dead   silence,  about  a  mile   and    a  half  from 


1645.]  BATTLE     OF     NASEBY.  121 

Naseby,  early  in  the  morning,  and  taken  up  its  position 
on  a  gentle  hill  sMe,  which  descended  to  a  broad  pla- 
teau, now  called  Broad  Moor.*  In  the  distance,  on  a 
similar  ridge,  but  out  of  sight,  the  royalists  had  formed 
their  line  of  battle.  The  former  by  sunrise  was  ready 
for  action.  The  solid  masses  of  infantry,  commanded  by 
Fairfax  and  Skippon,  occupied  the  centre,  protected  by 
twenty-five  pieces  of  artillery  ;  while  the  cavalry,  with 
Ireton  and  Cromwell  at  their  head,  stretched  away  on 
either  flank  like  two  w^ngs.  Ireton,  at  Cromwell's 
urgent  request,  had  been  promoted  on  the  spot,  and  given 
the  command  of  the  cavalry  composing  the  left  wing. 

Thus  arrayed,  those  twenty  thousand  men  lifted  a 
psalm  of  praise  to  God.  It  rolled  along  their  lines  in 
one  majestic  shout,  thrilling  every  heart  like  a  voice 
from  heaven.  Again  and  again  was  the  solemn  refrain 
caught  up,  and  sent  forward  through  the  dark  bat- 
talions, and  finally  died  away  amid  Cromwell's  enthu- 
siastic squadrons.  They  then  sat  down  in  ranks  upon 
the  green  upland,  w4th  their  arms  in  their  hands,  to 
wait  the  advance  of  the  royalists,  against  whom  Crom- 
well had  sent  a  detachment,  to  beguile  them  from  their 
strong  position. 

In  the  meantime,  Rupert,  impatient  to  find  the  enemy, 
spurred  forward  some  two  miles,  and  suddenly  came 
on  the  advance-guard  of  the  Puritans,  which  im- 
mediately fell  back.  Mistaking  it  for  the  rear-guard, 
he  sent  word  to  the  king  that  the  enemy  was  in  full 
flight,  and   urged   him  to   hasten  up   with   the   army. 

*  Vide  Carlyle,  page  166. 
6 


1^2  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  VV  E  L  L  . 

Forsaking  his  strong  position,  he  came  hurrying  for- 
ward over  the  broad  moor,  while  a  single  gun  from  the 
Puritan  host  announced  the  approaching  shock. 

It  was  now  about  ten  o'clock,  and  Rupert  began  the 
battle.  His  squadrons  dashed  across  the  level  ground, 
shouting,  "  Queen  Mary ;"  which  the  Puritans  an- 
swered with  the  fearful  war-cry — "  God  is  ivith  us  /" 
Scorning  all  obstacles,  he  charged  straight  up  the  hill, 
on  the  left  w^ing,  commanded  by  Ireton.  This  stern 
republican  well  knew  the  stuff  his  antagonist  was 
composed  of,  and  knew  also  why  he  himself  had  been 
promoted  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  strained  every 
nerve  to  meet  the  onset  firmly.  But  no  cavalry  had 
ever  yet  broken  Rupert's  charge  but  Cromwell's ;  and 
none  in  England  could  do  it.  With  banners  stream- 
ing in  the  summer  air,  and  rattling  armor,  and 
shouts  that  made  the  welkin  ring,  the  eager  cava- 
liers fell  in  a  steady  gallop,  on  the  thick-set  squad- 
rons of  parliamentary  horse,  and  bearing  them  gradually 
back,  at  length  burst  through  the  ranks  with  resistless 
fury.  The  proud  heart  of  Ireton  well  nigh  broke  at  the 
sight,  and  spurring  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and 
breasting  all  alone  the  terrible  torrent,  he  shouted  to 
his  men  to  rally.  He  called  on  them  by  every  motive 
that  moves  the  heart  of  man,  but  in  vain ;  Rupert 
swept  onward,  bearing  the  battle  before  him.  Ireton, 
and  a  few  followers  gallant  as  himself,  refused  to  fly,  and 
the  tide  swept  round  them,  as  the  stream  around  the 
earth-fast  rock,  and  left  them  almost  alone  in  the  field. 
Stung    into    madness  at    the  rout   of  his    cavalry,   on 


1645.]  BATTLE     OP     NASEBY.  123 

.vhose  flying  traces  Rupert  was  still  pressing,  as  they 
iwarmed  in  a  confused  throng  over  the  moor,  he  called 
the  few  that  remained  near  his  person,  to  follow  him,  and 
fell,  with  the  energy  of  despair,  on  the  advancing  infant- 
ry. But  borne  down  and  unhorsed,  with  a  pike  through 
his  thigh,  and  another  through  his  shoulder,  he  was,  after 
a  fierce  struggle,  overpowered  and  taken  prisoner. 

In  the  meantime,  the  whole  line  had  engaged — • 
the  troops  came  into  action  with  astonishing  rapidity, 
and  the  conflict  at  once  formed  its  crisis,  and  became 
close  and  deadly.  The  infantry  pressed  steadily  up  the 
slope,  against  Fairfax  and  Skippon  in  the  centre,  whose 
fire,  too  elevated,  passed  harmlessly  over  their  heads. 
It  then  became  a  hand-to-hand  fight,  and  those  two 
brave  commanders  forgot  that  they  were  officers,  and 
mingled  foremost  in  the  fray.  Skippon,  dreadfully 
wounded,  bled  in  his  saddle,  and  Fairfax  seeing  his 
condition,  urged  him  to  retire.  " No''  said  the  brave 
old  republican,  "  as  long  as  one  man  ivill  stand  I  won't 
stir ;"  and  shouting  to  his  reserve  to  advance,  he  him- 
self led  the  charge.  The  next  moment,  Fairfax  himself 
received  a  blow  on  his  head,  which  shattered  his  helmet 
a  id  hurled  it  to  the  ground.  Bare-headed,  with  his  eye 
flashing  fire,  he  still  galloped  amid  the  ranks,  inspiring 
them  with  hope  and  resolution,  and  shouting  " courage" 
with  a  voice  like  a  trumpet.  The  colonel  of  his  body- 
guard, seeing  his  danger,  spurred  across  his  path,  and 
handing  him  his  own  helmet,  urged  him  not  to  risk  his 
life  so  recklessly.  "'Tis  well  enoiigh,  Charles,  so," 
exclaimed  the  gallant  commander,  and  the  next  moment 


124  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

was  struggling  where  the  standards  rose  and  fell,  in  the 
doubtful  fight. 

The  left  wing  was  now  utterly  broken — the  struggle 
in  die  centre  wavered  to  and  fro — and  oh,  had  it 
then  fared  ill  with  the  right  wing,  all  had  been  lost; 
but  Cromwell  and  his  Ironsides  were  there.  IVnitating 
Rupert,  Sir  Marmaduke  Langdale,  at  the  head  of  the 
main  body  of  the  royalist  cavalry,  charged  this  right 
wing  gallantly.  But  he  might  as  w^ell  have  charged  on 
a  wall  of  iron.  Shattered  and  stunned  by  the  shock, 
the  astonished  squadrons  recoiled  down  the  hill.  The 
next  moment,  Oliver's  bugles  rang  out — and  shouting, 
"  God  is  iviih  us,"  the  w^iole  body  precipitated  itself 
down  the  slope,  with  such  headlong  fury  that  it  burst 
through  all  resistance,  and  shattered  the  whole  wing  into 
fragments.  Sending  three  squadrons  after  the  fugitives 
to  prevent  them  from  rallying,  "  which,"  as  Clarendon 
quaintly  says,  " they  neve?-  thought  of  doing"  Cromwell 
sounded  a  recall  to  the  remaining  four,  and  his  disciplin- 
ed Ironsides  came  riding  coolly  back,  as  if  on  a  parade. 

All  this  time  the  centre  shook  with  the  roar  of  guns, 
and  shouts,  and  clash  of  weapons.  Fairfax  noticing  a 
a  portion  of  the  king's  infantry  maintaining  its  perfect 
order,  amid  the  confusion,  pointed  it  out  to  the  colonel 
of  his  body-guard,  saying,  "Can't  those  people  be 
got  at — have  you  charged  them  T'  "  Twice,  general/' 
replied  the  officer,  "but  I  could  not  break  them.'* 
"Well  then,"  replied  Fairfax,  "take  them  in  front — 
I  will  take  them  in  the  rear,  andwe  'II  meet  in  the 
middle  /"     And  they  did  meet  in   the  middle ;  and  of 


1645.]  DESPAIR     OF     THE     KING.  125 

that  brave  regiment  scarce  a  man  was  left  to  tell 
how  he  fought.  Fairfax  killed  the  ensign  with  his  own 
hand,  and  captured  the  colors.*  At  that  moment, 
also,  sending  dismay  into  the  royalist  infantry,  was 
heard  the  heavy  tramp  of  Cromwell's  cavalry,  as  "  with 
loosened  rein,  and  spur  in  horse's  flanks,"  he  led  them 
fiercely  on.  They  broke  into  the  very  centre  of 
the  king's  guards,  and  routing  them,  seized  all  the  can- 
non, standards,  and  even  the  king's  private  carriage 
and  papers. 

At  this  critical  moment,  Rupert,  with  his  horse 
hhvm  from  the  chase,  came  back  and  found  the  field 
lost. 

The  appalling  disaster  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  on 
Charles,  and  rousing  himself  to  a  desperate  effort, 
he  proceeded  to  the  head  of  his  regiment  of  life-guards, 
and  bidding  them  follow  their  king,  was  about  to  lead 
them  to  the  charge,  when  the  Earl  of  Carnewarth, 
who  was  riding  beside  him,  suddenly  seized  the  bridle 
of  his  horse,  and  exclaiming,  with  a  sturdy  Scotch  oath, 
"  Do  you  want  to  rush  upon  your  death  in  an  in- 
stant?" turned  him  to  the  right-about.  In  a  mo- 
ment, the  whole  column  supposing  that  the  order 
v/as  to  move  to  the  right,  wheeled  after,  which  placed 
their  backs  to  the  enemy.  This  was  equivalent  to 
an  order  to  retreat;  and  putting  spurs  to  their  horses, 
they  fled  on  every  side.     Pale  w^ith  despair,  and  his 

*  He  gave  the  colors  to  a  soldier,  who  claimed  the  merit  of  having 
captured  them.  An  officer  overhearing  his  boast,  vv^as  indignant. 
Fairfax  passing  at  the  time,  said,  "  I  have  honor  enough ;  let  him 
take  that  to  himself." 


126  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

eye  gleaming  wildly,  the  king  shouted,  "  Stand!  stand!" 
A  few  wheeled  back  at  the  order;  and  Rupert's  strag- 
glers gathering  round  him,  he  endeavored  again  to 
make  a  last  charge  for  his  crown  and  kingdom.  With 
his  sword  weaving  over  his  head,  he  twice  darted  for- 
w^ard,  exclaiming — "  One  charge  more,  gentlemen,  and 
the  day  is  ours  !"*  But  he  spoke  to  w^ary,  disheart- 
ened men.  Besides,  there  stood  the  dark  squadrons  of 
Cromwell's  invincible  horsemen,  as  perfect  in  their 
array,  and  as  ready  for  the  onset,  as  when  the  morn- 
ing sun  first  flashed  on  their  steel  caps. 

All  w^as  lost ;  and  wdth  tw^o  thousand  mounted  fol- 
lowers, the  king  fled  towards  Leicester,  pressed  hard 
by  the  tireless  horsemen  of  the  republicans.  The  victory 
was  complete — the  contest  had  lasted  but  three  hours ; 
and  yet,  there  lay  over  three  thousand  corpses,  v/hile 
the  moor,  ploughed  like  a  field,  was  covered  with 
the  wounded,  and  the  v/recks  of  the  fight.  Five  thou- 
sand were  taken  prisoners — and  all  the  standards,  artilj- 

*  The  king  was  even  upon  the  point  of  charging  the  enemy  in  the 
head  of  his  guards,  when  the  Eari  of  Carnewarth,  who  rode  next 
to  him  (a  man  never  suspected  of  infidelity,  nor  one  from  whom 
the  king  would  have  received  counsel  in  such  a  case),  on  a  sudden  laid 
his  hand  on  the  bridle  of  the  king's  horse,  and  swearing  tvv^o  or  three 
foul-mouthed  Scottish  oaths,  (for  he  was  of  that  nation,)  said,  "  Will 
you  go  upon  your  death  in  an  instant ;  and  before  his  majesty  under- 
stood what  he  would  have,  turned  his  horse  round  ;  upon  which,  a 
word  run  through  the  troops,  "  that  they  should  march  to  the  right 
hand,"  which  was  both  from  charging  the  enemy,  or  ousting  their 
own  men  ;  and  upon  this  they  all  turned  their  horses,  and  rode  upon 
the  spur,  as  if  they  were  every  man  to  shift  for  himself.  Vide  Claren- 
don, Hist.  Rebellion,  page  559. 


1645.]  Cromwell's   letter.  127 

leiy,  &c.,  together  with  the  king's  cabinet  papers,  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  captors.  Many  females  were 
killed  in  the  pursuit,  and  several  women  of  quality  taken 
prisoners,  together  with  a  hundred  debased  Irish  wo- 
men. Trenches  were  dug,  and  the  dead  piled  by 
hundreds  in,  and  the  earth  thrown  loosely  over  them, 
many  of  w^hom  had  not  ceased  to  breathe. 

So  complete  a  victory  had  not  been  expected,  and 
the  news  of  it  spread  like  wildfire  over  England. 
Fairfax  sent  a  despatch  to  parliament,  while  Crom- 
well wrote  a  letter  to  the  House  of  Commons,  from 
whom,  alone,  he  had  received  his  appointment,  the 
House  of  Lords  having  refused  to  sanction  the  vote 
which  extended  his  commission.  After  speaking  of 
the  battle,  and  the  fruits  of  the  victory,  he  concludes 
with  these  remarkable  words :  "  Sir,  this  is  none  other 
but  the  hand  of  God,  and  to  Him  alone  belongs  the 
glory,  whereas  none  are  to  share  with  him.  The 
general  served  you  with  all  faithfulness  and  honor ; 
and  the  best  commendation  I  can  give  him,  is,  that 
I  dare  say  he  attributes  all  to  God,  and  would  rather 
perish,  than  assume  to  himself,  which  is  an  honest 
and  thriving  way ;  and  yet,  as  much  for  bravery 
may  be  given  to  him,  in  this  action,  as  to  a  man. 
Honest  men  served  you  faithfully  in  this  action.  Sir, 
they  are  trusty.  I  beseech  you,  in  the  name  of  God, 
not  to  discourage  them.  I  wish  this  action  may  beget 
thankfulness  in  all  that  are  concerned  in  it.  He  that 
ventures  his  life  for  the  liberty  of  his  country,  I  wish 
he  trusts  God  for  the  liberty  of  his  conscience,  and 


128  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

you  for  the  liberty  he  fights  for."  This  allusion  to 
the  general,  is  certainly  cool  in  a  subordinate,  and 
sounds  strange;  yet,  Cromwell  knew  perfectly  well 
what  he  was  about,  and  that,  instead  of  affronting 
Fairfax  by  it,  he  should  please  him ;  for  the  latter 
was  a  mere  child  in  everything  but  military  matters, 
and  wholly  under  his  control.  His  great  capa- 
city, deep  combinations,  bold  and  daring  projects,  and 
soaring  genius,  gave  him  complete  ascendancy  over 
the  just  and  generous,  but  more  simple-minded,  com- 
mander-in-chief Indeed,  he  was  in  reality  the  superior 
officer,  and  Fairfax  looked  up  to  him  as  such,  in  form- 
ing his  military  plans.  Hence,  the  commendation  was 
from  his  superior  both  in  character,  talents,  and  influ- 
ence in  the  army,  and  strength  in  the  battle-field.  The 
*' honest  men"  referred  to,  were  the  Independents — dis- 
senters from  the  Presbyterian  Church,  who  had  been 
regarded  with  so  much  suspicion ;  and  he  here  throws 
in  a  word  in  their  behalf,  which  fell  like  a  bomb  among 
the  Presbyterians.  They  saw,  plainly,  that  Cromwell 
would  never  tolerate  their  bigotry. 

After  this  disastrous  battle — the  last  he  ever  fought, 
in  person,  for  his  throne — the  king  fled  from  town 
to  town  ;  and,  finally,  resolved  to  go  to  Wales,  and 
recruit  his  army.  Sending  Rupert  to  Bristol  to  de- 
fend it,  he  proceeded  to  Ragland  Castle,  to  consult 
with  the  Pvlarquis  of  Worcester,  chief  of  the  Catho- 
Uc  party,  how  to  retrieve  his  fallen  fortunes. 

In  the  meantime,  his  private  papers,  captured  at 
the    battle    of   Naseby,   were    published    abroad,    and 


1645.]  HIS     ENERGY.  *  129 

his  secret  purposes  made  known.  From  these,  it  was 
evident,  that,  notwithstanding  his  fair  promises  and 
proposals,  he  had  never,  for  an  instant,  abandoned 
the  ground  he  took  in  the  first  conflict  with  parha- 
ment.  Still  dreaming  of  absolute  power,  and  royal 
prerogative,  he  was  negotiating  with  foreign  princes 
for  troops,  with  which  to  subdue  his  ow^n  subjects. 
At  this  evidence  of  double-dealing,  on  the  part  of 
their  monarch,  the  indignation  of  the  people  broke 
over  all  bounds,  and  none  seemed  to  wish  for  peace. 
"War!  war!"  was  in  everybody's  mouth;  and  the 
heavens  gathered  blacker  than  ever  over  the  devoted 
head  of  Charles. 

On  the  very  day  that  the  news  of  the  victory 
reached  parliament,  Cromwell's  appointment  was 
lengthened  out  to  three  months,  and,  at  the  expi- 
ration of  that  time,  to  four  months,  and  then  to  six 
months,  after  which  he  himself  took  care  of  his  com- 
mission. 

One  great  cause  of  his  success,  which  followed, 
was  his  celerity  of  movement.  No  difficulties  ex- 
hausted him,  no  pleasure  beguiled,  and  no  victories 
lulled  him  into  a  moment's  repose.  No  sooner  was 
the  bloody  field  of  Naseby  swept  of  the  enemy,  than 
he  hurried  Fairfax  forward  to  Leicester,  which  im- 
mediately fell ;  and  then  pressed  on  to  Taunton,  around 
which  the  profligate  Goring  lay  with  his  army,  in 
close  siege.  One-third  of  the  town  had  been  taken ; 
and  in  a  few  days  more,  unless  relieved,  it  would  be 
given  up  to  Goring's  brutal  troops.  But  Cromwell 
6* 


130  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

dashed  upon  them,  driving  them  before  him  towards 
Bridgewater.  As  he  came  in  sight  of  the  latter  place, 
he  rode  forward  to  make  a  reconnoisance,  when  a  mus- 
ket-ball, aimed  at  him,  struck  down  a  cornet  by  his  side. 
He  resolved,  at  once,  to  storm  the  place ;  and  rushing 
over  its  strong  ramparts,  swept  them  like  a  flood. 

More  than  a  thousand  of  Goring's  army  had  been 
killed,  or  taken  piisoners,  in  these  tw^o  encounters. 
Moving  still  forw^ard,  he  came  upon  the  clubmen — a 
third  party,  which  pretended  to  be  neutral,  and  was 
composed  of  the  peasantry  and  laborers  of  the  coun- 
try, who,  armed  with  bludgeons,  had  organized  them- 
selves for  mutual  protection,  against  the  violence  of 
both  armies.  Advancing  with  a  small  detachment 
of  horse  towards  Shaftesbury,  he  encountered  a  large 
body,  who,  receiving  his  promise  that  they  should 
not  be  plundered,  nor  their  rights  invaded,  quietly 
dispersed.  Proceeding  to  the  town,  he  saw  another 
body  of  two  thousand  drawn  up  on  Hambledon  Hill, 
who  fired  on  the  fifty  horsemen  he  sent  in  advance, 
to  confer  with  them.  The  peaceable  offer  being  re- 
newed, they  fired  again,  killing  two  men  and  four 
horses.  Cromwell  then  ordered  a  charge;  and  com- 
ing on  them  in  rear,  dispersed  them  without  loss  to 
himself,  and  took  some  three  hundred  prisoners,  whom 
he  requested  parliament  to  let  him  "send  home,  as 
they  were  poor,  silly  creatures,  who  promised  to 
be  very  dutiful  for  time  to  come,  and  would  be  hanged 
before  they  came  out  again." 

This  ended  the  clubmen ;  who,  notwithstanding  theii 


1645.]  STORMING     OF     BRISTOL.  131 

pretended  neutrality,  were  royalists  at  heart — the  king 
having  granted  commissions  to  raise  regiments  of  them, 
all  over  England.  Cromwell  then  returned  to  Sher- 
burne, which  was  closely  besieged  by  Fairfax.  The 
castle  having  surrendered,  they  together  pushed  forward 
towards  Bristol,  where  Prince  Rupert  lay  with  5,000 
men. 


STORMING    OF    BRISTOL. 

Bristol  was  one  of  the  most  important  places  in  the 
kingdom,  and  was  not  only  well  defended  by  walls  and 
gates,  but  surrounded  with  a  line  of  works,  protected  by 
strong  forts,  on  which  were  placed  a  hundred  and  forty 
cannon.  Notwithstanding  their  recent  successes,  the 
leaders  of  the  parliamentary  army  were  in  much  doubt 
respecting  the  expediency  of  attacking  so  strong  and 
heavily  garrisoned  a  place.  Cromwell,  however,  know- 
ing how  important  it  was  to  keep  the  disaffected  clubmen 
from  coming  to  a  head,  and  the  royalists  from  concen- 
trating their  forces,  overruled  all  opposition,  and  the 
army  continued  to  advance,  till  within  four  miles  of 
the  town.  A  halt  was  then  ordered,  and  a  council  of 
war  called,  to  decide  whether  they  should  approach  by 
regular  siege,  or  commence  at  once  a  close  blockade. 
The  latter  being  resolved  upon,  they  moved  forward — 
the  enemy  retiring  before  them,  within  the  line  of  their 
ranks,  while  the  villages  they  had  set  on  fire  in  their 
retreat,  blazed  balefully  up  in  the  evening  twilight. 

Thus  lighted  to  the  walls  of  Bristol,  the  victorious 


132  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

army  sat  down  before  it,  and  commenced  the  invest- 
ment. One  brigade  was  marched  to  the  south  side  of 
the  town,  and  entrenched  itself  on  a  hill  that  over- 
looked the  place ;  while  Ireton,  with  a  body  of  horse 
and  dragoons,  took  post  on  the  north  side,  till  the 
infantry  could  come  up  and  occupy  the  position.  In  a 
short  time  the  entire  place  was  closely  invested.  Sally 
alter  sally  was  made,  but  the  beseigers  successfully 
maintained  every  post  wdth  but  little  loss.  The  hardest 
duty  devolved  upon  the  cavalry,  which  was  constantly 
in  motion,  galloping  from  post  to  post,  as  each  was 
heavily  threatened  in  turn.  At  length,  a  council  w^as 
called  to  consider  whether  an  attempt  should  not  be 
made  to  carry  the  w^orks  by  storm.  The  decision  was 
against  it ;  but  eight  days  after,  on  re-consideration,  an 
assault  was  resolved  upon.  When  the  new^s  spread 
through  the  army,  all  was  joy  and  confidence.  Not 
Rupert's  dreaded  horsemen,  nor  the  frowning  batteries 
were  so  disheartening  as  the  ceaseless  watchfulness  and 
harrassing  duty,  to  which  they  vrere  subjected,  without 
making  apparently  any  progress. 

The  10th  of  September  was  fixed  upon  for  the 
assault — the  hour  to  be  one  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
When  everything  was  ready,  the  firing  of  a  large 
heap  of  straw,  and  the  discharge  of  four  cannon,  at 
Prior's  Hill  fort,  one  of  the  strongest  of  the  fortifi- 
c  tions,  were  to  be  the  signals  for  the  attack.  At 
midnight,  when  all  was  still  in  the  city,  and  naught 
but  tlie  measured  tread,  and  "  all's  well"  of  the  drowsy 
sentinel,  broke  the  silence  that  reigned  over  the  battle 


1645.]  THE     STORM.  133 

ments — the  storming  columns  were  arrayed,  and  stood  in 
close  order  awaiting  the  signal.  At  length,  the  mid- 
night heavens  flushed  with  a  sudden  glow,  followed 
by  the  sullen  thunder  of  those  four  cannon ;  when, 
with  a  shout  that  sent  terror  into  the  hearts  of  the 
besieged,  the  brave  fellows  rushed  on.  Colonels  Mon- 
tague and  Pickering  stormed  Lawford's  Gate,  "  where 
was  a  double  work,"  and  sweeping  over  it,  within 
the  lines,  pressed  forward  to  the  walls  of  the  town, 
and  occupied  the  gate  at  Castle  street.  Two  other 
regiments,  forcing  their  way  over  the  works  between 
this  gate  and  the  river  Avon,  soon  stood  in  commu- 
nication vv4th  the  others.  Prior's  Hill,  a  strong  fort, 
and  the  line  extending  downward  from  it  to  the  Froom 
river,  were  entrusted  to  Colonels  Rainsborough  and 
Hammond.  The  latter,  assaulting  the  works  lower 
down,  gradually  surmounted  the  obstacles  that  op- 
posed his  advance ;  but  Rainsborough,  who  moved 
straight  on  the  fort,  suddenly  saw  a  bare  and  solid 
wall  of  masonry  rise  before  him.  A  ladder  of  thirty 
rounds  would  scarcely  reach  the  top ;  yet,  nothing 
daunted,  he  mounted,  at  the  head  of  his  followers. 
But  a  row  of  glistening  pikes  fringed  the  parapet, 
and  forced  them  back.  Again,  resolutely  ascending, 
they  stood  on  their  precarious  footing,  and  fought  hand 
to  hand  with  the  enemy.  Thus,  for  three  hours,  did 
they  maintain  this  unequal  contest,  while  four  can- 
non on  the  ramparts  over  head,  kept  up  a  plunging 
fire  of  round  and  canister  shot,  on  the  dark  masses 
beneath.     It  was  an  incessant  shout,  and  flash,  and  roar, 


1 34  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

around  that  single  fort ;  and  the  bloody  struggle  was 
still  going  on,  when  Hammond,  who  had  broken 
through  the  line  of  works  below — a  major,  by  the 
name  of  Bethel,  being  the  first  horseman  within, 
though  his  good  steed  fell  beneath  him  in  the  at- 
tempt, and  he  beside  him,  pierced  with  three  balls- 
now  came  marching  up  in  rear. 

To  meet  this  new  assailant,  a  strong  body  of  horse 
was  sent  out,  which  charged  furiously  on  the  wearied 
column.  But,  at  this  critical  moment,  Captain  Ire- 
ton,  brother  of  the  gallant  commander,  who  was  so 
severely  wounded  at  Naseby,  dashed  forward  with 
a  forlorn  hope  of  horse,  and  checked  their  advance, 
himself  receiving  two  balls  in  the  onset.  The  whole 
regiment  now  moved  forward,  and  entered  the  fort  at 
the  same  time  that  Rainsborough's  men  came  pour- 
ing over  the  ramparts,  shouting  victory. 

The  conquest  of  this  fort,  without  which  the  whole 
line  of  works,  a  mile  in  length,  which  had  now  been 
captured,  would  have  been  untenable,  finished  the  con- 
flict on  that  side  of  Bristol,  for  the  night ;  for  the  orders 
were,  to  wait  for  daylight,  before  attempting  the  town 
itself.  On  the  side  where  Colonel  Welden  commanded, 
the  assault  was  unsuccessful ;  for  the  ladders  proving 
too  short  for  the  walls,  the  men  w^ere  repulsed  with 
great  slaughter. 

Major  Cromwell,  a  cousin  of  Oliver,  was  danger- 
ously wounded  here. 

When  morning  daw^ned,  Rupert,  finding  himself 
hemmed  in,  his  strong  works  taken,  and  his  position 


1645.]  THE     VICTORY.  135 

commanded  by  the  republican  guns,  felt  his  proud 
spirit  bow.  The  soldiers,  however,  mad  with  rage, 
fired  the  town  in  three  places;  and  soon  vast  columns 
of  smoke  began  to  ascend  the  heavens,  while  the  crack- 
ling of  flames  was  distinctly  heard  without  the  walls. 
Cromwell  and  Fairfax  were  filled  with  grief,  as  they 
contemplated  the  apparently  inevitable  destruction 
of  that  splendid  town.  But  fortunately,  before  the 
conflagration  had  proceeded  far,  Rupert  sounded  a 
parley,  and  despatched  a  message,  offering  to  sur- 
render the  place,  on  condition  that  he,  with  his 
forces,  should  be  allowed  to  march  forth.  This  was 
granted;  and  at  two  o'clock  his  humbled  columns 
took  up  their  line  of  march  for  Oxford,  and  the 
triumphant  republicans,  with  streaming  banners,  entered 
the  place. 

Here  Cromwell  again  came  near  being  killed.  Af- 
ter the  taking  of  Prior's  fort,  as  he  and  Fairfax  sat 
on  the  ramparts,  a  single  cannon  ball  fired  from  the 
castle,  struck  the  stones  not  a  foot  from  him,  and  went 
whizzing  past. 

The  news  of  this  victory  sent  a  thrill  of  joy 
throughout  the  land,  equal  to  that  of  Naseby.  The 
letter  of  Oliver,  giving  an  account  of  it,  was  ordered 
to  be  read  in  all  the  churches. 

Cromwell  now  marched  from  one  triumph  to  ano- 
ther, with  astonishing  rapidity.  Appearing  before 
Devizes,  he  summoned  it  to  surrender.  The  com- 
mander replied,  "  Win  and  wear  it ;"  which  Oliver 
did,   without    farther    ceremony.     He    next    stormed 


136  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Berkley  Castle ;  and  then  drew  up  his  little  army 
before  Winchester,  which  capitulated  without  at- 
tempting a  resistance.  Here  his  soldiers  had  a  taste 
of  his  discipline.  Some  of  them  robbed  the  inhabit- 
ants, as  they  were  leaving  the  place,  which,  being 
told  to  him,  he  summoned  six  of  them  into  his  pre- 
sence ;  and  compelling  them  to  cast  lots,  ordered  the 
one  on  whom  the  lot  fell,  to  be  shot ;  and  sent  the 
remaining  five  to  the  royalist  governor,  to  be  punished 
as  he  deemed  best.  Stern  as  death,  where  his  com 
mands  Avere  slighted,  he  taught  them  that  no  bravery 
or  success  could  make  him  overlook  disobedience. 


STORMING    OF    BASING    HOUSE. 

After  taking  Winchester,  he  marched  on  Basing 
House — one  of  the  strongest  holds  of  the  king  in  Eng- 
land, and  which  had  hitherto  resisted  all  efforts  to 
take  it.  It  was  the  seat  of  the  Marquis  of  Winchester, 
and  was  composed  of  two  houses — the  old  and  the 
new — both  splendidly  furnished,  and  "fit  to  make  an 
emperor's  court," — one  bed  alone  ^osting  six  thousand 
dollars.  The  line  of  circumvallation  extended  over 
a  mile,  a^d  all  the  defences  w^ere  of  the  most  for- 
midable kind.  This  tempestuous  leader,  w^ho  could 
not  brook  the  delay  of  sieges,  nor  even  of  close  invest- 
ments, but,  mounting  the  walls,  sword  in  hand,  and 
storming  over  the  ruddy  ramparts,  had  •  swept  like 
a  devastating  flood  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
country,  now  wheeled   his   cannon   around   the   verv 


1645.]         STORMING     OF     BASING    HOUSE.  137 

citadel  of  royalty.  The  governor,  on  being  sum- 
moned to  surrender,  said  to  one  of  his  councillors, 
who  advised  him  to  submit,  that  "if  it  was  the  last 
foot  of  land  the  king  had  in  England,  he  would  de- 
fend it  to  the  last ;"  and  so  sent  word  to  Cromwell 
The  latter  then  opened  all  his  batteries  upon  the 
place,  and  rained  such  an  iron  storm  on  the  mas- 
sive walls,  that  they,  at  length,  crumbled  before  it. 
Breaches  being  thus  made,  he  arrayed  his  storming 
parties  before  daylight  on  the  morning  of  the  14th  of 
October  Four  cannon  fired  in  rapid  succession,  was 
to  be  the  signal  for  them  to  fall  on.  All  night  long 
had  Cromwell  been  bowed  in  prayer  before  God ;  and 
now,  resting  on  the  verse  of  the  115th  Psalm — "  They 
that  make  them  are  like  unto  them,  so  is  every  one 
that  trusteth  in  them;" — he  ordered  the  signal  to  be 
given;  and  with  a  shout  the  troops  rushed  on.  Breast- 
ing the  volleys  that  met  them,  dashing  fiercely  on  the 
pikes  that  defended  the  passages,  scorning  all  ob- 
stacles, they  scaled  one  wall,  then  pulling  the  ladders 
after  them,  mounted  another,  dealing  death  at  every 
step,  and  conquering  as  much  by  their  desperate 
daring,  as  by  their  weapons. 

The  struggle  was  soon  over ;  and  Basing  House 
fell.  It  was,  however,  on  fire,  from  a  fire-ball  which 
had  been  previously  shot ;  and  the  governor  having 
had  no  time  to  extinguish  the  flames,  it  soon  be- 
came a  mass  of  ruins — the  crumbling  timbers,  and 
massive  stones,  overlaying  the  living  and  the  dead. 
The  place  was  given  up  to  plunder ;  and  the  soldiers 


138  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

stripped  not  only  every  apartment  of  its  furniture,  but 
even  the  lead  from  the  gutters  of  the  roof.  A  place  that 
put  the  assailants  to  the  extremity  of  storming,  was 
regarded,  in  those  times,  the  lawful  property  of  the 
soldiers;  and  they  availed  themselves  of  their  rights 
on  this  occasion  to  the  full  extent. 

In  the  midst  of  the  burning  dwellings,  and  confusion, 
and  tumult  of  the  plundering  soldiers,  Cromwell  sat  down 
and  wrote  his  despatch  to  parliament.  He  advised 
them  not  to  garrison  it,  but  leave  it  dismantled;  and 
added,  that  if  they  wanted  the  work  carried  on,  they 
must  raise  recruits  and  pay  the  soldiers.  As  usual  in 
all  his  letters,  he  ascribed  the  entire  success  to  God's 
goodness.  "God,"  he  says,  "exceedingly  abounds  in 
his  goodness  to  us ;  and  will  not  be  weary,  until  right- 
eousness and  peace  meet ;  and  until  he  hath  brought 
forth  a  glorious  work  in  this  poor  kingdom." 

No  sooner  were  his  troops  rested,  than  he  hurried  on 
to  Langford  House,  near  Salisbury,  and  summoned  it 
to  surrender.  Not  caring  to  hazard  the  assault  of  a 
man  to  whom  w^alls  and  castles  offered  no  impediment, 
it  hauled  down  its  banner.  Scarcely  stopping  to  receive 
its  submission,  he  spurred  forward  in  pursuit  of  Lord 
Wentworth,  who  was  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  royalists. 
Overtaking  him  at  Bovey  Tracy,  he  relieved  him  of  500 
prisoners  and  six  standards  ;  then  w^heeling  about,  joined 
Fairfax ;  when  the  two  together  stormed  Dartmouth,  and 
took  it. 

It  was  now  the  middle  of  winter ;  yet  the  campaign 
was  urged  on  with  vigor ;  and  these  two  commanders 


1645.]  THE    king's    movements.  139 

pressed  after  Lord  Hopton,  commander-in-chief  of  the 
forces  in  the  West ;  and  came  up  with  him,  entrenched 
at  Torrington.  This  was  in  February,  1646.  Hopton 
made  a  gallant  defence,  but  was  finally  routed ;  though 
not  till  he  had  been  unhorsed,  and  wounded  in  the  face 
with  a  pike.  Prince  Charles,  now  fifteen  years  of  age, 
whom  his  father,  as  before  stated,  sent  hither  as  gen- 
eralissimo of  the  forces,  had  fled  the  approaching 
storm,  and  taken  refuge,  with  several  noblemen,  in  the 
isle  of  Scilly.  The  gallant  Hopton  soon  after  retired 
"  beyond  seas,"  where  he  lived  and  died  in  poverty. 

The  king  was  now  in  a  desjKrate  case.  During  the 
past  summer,  he  had  left  Ragland  Castle,  to  go  to  the  re- 
lief of  Goring ;  but  being  discouraged  by  the  dissensions 
among  the  officers,  and  the  character  of  the  new  levies, 
he  retired  to  Wales.  Here,  rousing  himself  to  make 
another  great  effort  for  his  kingdom,  he  gathered  around 
him  what  soldiers  he  could ;  and  departed  for  the  North 
to  join  Montrose,  who  was  still  victorious  in  Scotland. 
Traversing  Shropshire,  Staffordshire,  Derbyshire,  and 
Nottinghamshire,  he  safely  reached  Yorkshire ;  calling 
on  all  loyal  gentlemen  to  rally  to  his  standard,  nnd  gc 
with  him  to  the  aid  of  Montrose.  But  the  battle  of 
Naseby  was  too  fresh  in  their  memories,  in  that  quarter, 
and  old  Lesley's  Scottish  horse  were  too  near,  to  allow 
them  to  show  much  enthusiasm. 

Charles  then  abandoned  his  design  of  going  to  Scot- 
land; and,  with  fifteen  hundred  men,  again  passed 
through  the  centre  of  his  kingdom,  and  arrived  safely 
at  Oxford.     He   had   been  here  but  two  days,  when 


140  OLIVER     CROiMWELL. 

he  heard  of  Montrose's  astonishing  victories — Bothwell, 
Glasgow,  and  Edinburgh,  had  all  opened  their  gates  to 
him.  Elated  by  the  news,  he  again,  August  31st,  set 
out  for  Scotland.  But  his  sudden  energy  gave  way; 
and  hearing  of  the  investment  of  Bristol,  he  said  he  must 
return  and  succor  it.  He,  however,  left  Rupert  to  his 
fate ;  and  repaired  to  Ragland  Castle,  to  talk  over  mat- 
ters again  wdth  the  Marquis  of  Worcester.  He  had 
been  here  but  a  day  or  tw^o,  when  he  was  astounded 
with  the  news  of  the  fall  of  Bristol.  He  immediately 
wrote  a  reproachful  letter  to  Rupert,  which  produced 
a  coldness  between  then*;  and  it  was  wdth  the  greatest 
difficulty  the  latter  could  appease  his  royal  master. 

Gloomy  and  desponding,  Charles  once  more  turned 
his  eyes  towards  Scotland  and  the  victorious  Montrose ; 
and  he  determined  to  hasten  thither.  But  it  was  neces- 
sary first  to  relieve  Chester,  now  closely  besieged :  for 
since  Bristol  had  fallen,  there  was  no  other  port  in  which 
troops  from  Ireland,  the  only  resource  except  that  of 
'Montrose  left  him,  could  be  safely  landed.  With  this 
resolution,  he  started  otf  for  the  Welsh  mountains :  but, 
overtaken  on  the  way  by  the  republicans  under  the 
command  of  Poyntz,  he  was,  after  a  sharp  encounter, 
so  roughly  handled,  that  he  turned  back  disconsolate. 
It  was  well  he  did;  for  Montrose  was  no  longer  at 
the  head  of  an  army.  His  brilliant  successes  over  the 
(Covenanters  had  ended :— completely  routed  at  Phillips- 
haugh  by  Lesley,  he  was  now  a  fugitive  like  the  king. 

Thus,  prop  after  prop  gave  way  under  the  despairing 
monarch ;  and,  uncertain  which  way  to  direct  his  steps, 


1645.]   CHARLES     TURNS     TO     PARLIAMENT.       141 

he  finally  proceeded  to  Norwich,  one  of  the  few  strong 
places  that  still  held  out  for  him.  But  he  had  only  gone 
into  a  divided  and  mutinous  army;  a  part  of  which 
soon  marched  away  in  anger.  He  was  here,  while 
Cromwell's  cannon  were  playing  on  Basing  House,  and 
his  victorious  troops  storming  over  the  chief  towns  in 
his  kingdom.  But  being  pressed  by  Poyntz,  with  the 
parliamentary  troops,  he,  in  the  beginning  of  November, 
was  compelled  again  to  flee.  Accompanied  by  only 
four  or  five  hundred  cavaliers ;  with  his  beard  shaved 
to  complete  his  disguise,  he  left  the  town  at  eleven 
o'clock,  and  travelled  night  and  day,  till  he  reached  Ox- 
ford. Here,  to  swell  his  anguish,  and  press  him  deeper 
and  deeper  in  the  flood  that  nov/,  without  let  or  hind- 
rance, swept  over  his  devoted  head,  came,  in  rapid  suc- 
cession, the  news  of  the  victories  of  Fairfax  and  Crom- 
well, which  we  have  been  describing.  Humbled  and 
helpless  as  a  child,  he  asked  his  counsellors  what  should 
be  done.  They  advised  him  again  to  open  negotiations 
with  parliament ;  and  finding  no  other  resource  left 
him,  he  consented ;  and  commissioners  w^ere  appointed. 
But  parliament  was  far  from  being  eager  to  nego- 
tiate with  him — their  relative  positions  had  changed ; 
besides,  a  new  set  of  members  had  come  in,  less 
favorable  to  the  royal  interests,  among  whom  were  Lud- 
low, Ireton,  Admiral  Blake,  Algernon  Sidney,  and 
Hutchinson.  The  progress  of  the  war  had  also  es- 
tranged, still  farther,  the  two  parties ;  animosities  had 
assumed  a  more  violent  character,  and  parUament 
pressed  harder  and  harder   on  royalist  noblemen,  and 


142  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Irish  papists.  No  quarter  was  given  to  the  latter 
taken  under  arms,  and  they  Avere  slain  by  scores; 
and  the  revolution  which  had  commenced  so  mildly, 
now  covered  with  blood,  began  to  look  grim  and 
monster-like.  Still  Cromwell,  Fairfax,  and  the  chief 
officers,  maintained  their  high  character ;  and  held  in 
check  by  their  integrity,  the  increasing  violence — a 
violence  ever  engendered  by  a  revolution.  But  the 
treaty  of  the  king  with  the  Irish,  and  his  negotiations 
with  the  pope,  and  the  plan  to  throw  a  large  papist 
army  on  the  shores  of  England ;  which  had  all  been  dis- 
covered and  published  this  fall,  tended  to  swell  still 
higher  the  popular  indignation,  and  destroy  all  confi- 
dence on  the  part  of  parliament,  in  his  integrity  and 
truth. 

But  one  hope  still  remained  to  Charles^his  enemies 
were  divided,  and  out  of  their  contentions  capital 
might  be  made.  The  Scotch  army  was  grumbling 
and  discontented — the  Independents  and  Presbyte- 
rians plotted  against  each  other ;  and  so  he,  unable 
longer  to  practice  his  diplomacy  abroad,  ventured  still 
to  press  his  proposals  on  parliament. 

During  the  spring  of  1646,  he  corresponded  both  with 
the  Presbyterians  and  Independents — now  scheming 
with  Vane,  and  now  secretly  holding  out  large  pro- 
mises to  the  Presbyterian  leaders.  The  Scotch,  also, 
received  a  share  of  his  attention ;  and  the  king  thought 
it  would  go  hard  with  him,  if  he  could  not  get  some 
foot-hold  in  one  or  other  of  the  parties. 

It  was   in  this    month    (March),  that    Lord    Astley, 


1646.]  DEFEAT     OF     LORD     ASTLEY.  143 

who  commanded  the  only  large  body  of  troops  left 
to  the  king,  was  utterly  routed  in  Gloucestershire, 
and  the  last  vestige  of  resistance  removed.  The 
old  veteran  struggled  nobly  in  this  his  last  battle ; 
and  after  it  w^as  over,  and  he  a  prisoner,  he  was  so 
fatigued  that  he  could  scarcely  w^alk.  The  pity  of 
the  soldiers  was  moved  by  his  venerable  appearance; 
and  wishing  to  honor  the  grey  hairs  they  had  seen 
streaming  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  brought  him  a 
drum  to  rest  upon.  Sitting  down,  the  old  noble  ex- 
claimed— "  Gentlemen,  you  have  now  done  your  work, 
and  may  go  to  play,  unless  you  will  fall  out  with  your- 
selves.'* 

The  next  day  the  king  sent  a  message  to  parlia- 
ment, offering  to  give  up  all  his  garrisons,  disband 
his  troops,  and  again  take  up  his  residence  in  White- 
hall. Nothing  can  show  more  strikingly  his  confi- 
dence in  the  integrity  of  his  enemies,  than  this  offer. 
After  deluging  the  kingdom  in  blood,  and  plotting 
their  ruin — rafter  practising  duplicity,  falsehood,  and 
treachery,  (enough  to  wreck  any  cnaracter  but  that 
of  a  king.)  he  offered  voluntarily  to  put  himself  in 
their  power,  requiring  only  the  guarantee  of  their 
word.  But  this  very  generous  act  parliament  could 
not  properly  appreciate  ;  and  penetrating,  at  once,  the 
infamous  design  at  the  bottom,  viz.,  to  be  where  he 
could  take  advantage  of  their  dissensions ;  forbade  any 
one  to  receive,  or  visit,  him.  The  most  violent  mea- 
sures were  adopted — all  public  meetings  were  pro- 
hibited,   and     malcontents,    and     suspected     persons. 


144  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

ordered  immediately  to  leave  London.  Soon  after, 
it  was  decreed,  that  whoever  should  attempt  to  enter 
the  city,  from  one  of  the  royalist  towns,  without  a 
passport,  or  hold  any  intercourse  with  the  king, 
should  be  put  to  death.  Men  began  to  tremble  be- 
fore this  revolutionary  government,  wiiich  could  pass 
so  quickly  from  requests  to  commands,  and  assume 
so  stern  and  terrible  an  aspect. 

While  things  w^ere  in  this  position,  Fairfax  and 
Cromwell,  returning  victorious  from  the  West,  drew 
rapidly  on  towards  Oxford.  Their  banners  were 
already  within  sight  of  the  place;  and,  like  a  scor- 
pion girt  with  fire,  the  unhappy  king  knew  not  which 
way  to  turn.  But  danger  pressed  :  a  few  more  days 
and  every  crevice  would  be  closed,  and  he  be  compelled 
to  surrender  as  a  prisoner  of  war.  In  this  dilemma,  he 
resolved  to  throw  himself  into  the  Scottish  camp, 
and  trust  his  fortune  with  the  solemn  Covenanters. 
The  religious  dissensions  which  prevailed  between 
them  and  the  parliament  prompted  him  to  this  course. 
Although  the  Presbyterians  had  obtained  most  of  their 
demands,  they  could  not  wTing  from  the  Indepen- 
dents the  concession  that  presybtery  was  of  divine 
right,  which  placed  parliament  and  the  assembly 
of  divines  in  direct  collision.  The  Independents,  in 
cases  of  excommunication  and  church  discipline, 
allowed  an  appeal  to  parliament — thus  mixing  up 
civil  and  religious  matters.  To  complete  the  disgust 
of  the  Scotch  Covenanters,  who  regarded  the  denial 
of    the    divine  rights   of  presbytery  as  rank  heresy — 


1646.]  THE   king's   flight.  145 

parliament,  now  much  influenced  by  the  Indepen- 
dents, showed  great  forbearance  towards  dissenters  of 
all  classes  from  the  Presbyterian  Church. 

Knowing  how  the  Scotch  felt,  and  having  received 
some  general  vague  promises  of  protection,  the  king 
resolved  to  place  himself  in  their  hands,  hoping  that 
his  presence  in  their  midst,  would  kindle  their  loyalty, 
and  enlist  them  in  his  favor.  So,  on  the  27th  of 
April,  at  midnight,  accompanied  only  by  Dr.  Hudson, 
a  clergyman,  and  Ashburnham,  he,  in  disguise  as  a 
servant  of  the  latter,  passed  through  the  gates  of  Oxford, 
and  took  the  road  to  London.  As  he  came  in  sight  of  his 
former  capital,  he  paused  and  hesitated  long  about  enter- 
ing it,  and  flinging  himself  on  the  mercy  of  parliament. 
But,  at  length,  he  mournfully  turned  his  horse's  head 
northward,  and  after  nine  days  weary  wandering,  arriv- 
ed in  the  Scottish  camp.  The  Earl  of  Leven,  and 
other  officers,  aflected  surprise  at  his  arrival ;  but  re- 
ceived him  with  great  respect.  A  messenger  was  im- 
mediately despatched  to  parhament,  announcing  the 
king's  presence  in  the  army. 

Cromwell,  who  had  started  for  London  the  Wednes- 
day before  the  king  left  Oxford,  was  in  his  seat  when  the 
news  was  received.  Arriving  in  the  city,  the  entire 
population  had  poured  forth  to  meet  him — the  members 
of  parliament  rose  as  he  entered  the  House — the  Speaker 
pronounced  an  eulogium  upon  his  acts  ;  and  a  vote  of 
"  hearty  thanks,"  for  "  his  great  and  many  services," 
was  passed. 

Previous  to  this,  in  February,  an  annuity  of  £2,500, 
7 


146  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

or  more  than  $12,000,  had  been  voted  him,  towards 
the  payment  of  which,  the  estates  of  the  Earl  of 
Worcester,  Lord  Herbert,  Sir  John  Somerset  and 
his  sons,  in  the  county  of  Southampton,  were  made 
over  to  him. 

Whei  he  returned  to  parhament,  he  considered  the 
war  closed;  and  hence,  was  prepared  to  plunge  into 
the  chaos  of  political  strife,  and  prevent  the  govern- 
ment from  rendering  null  and  void  what  he  had 
obtained  by  his  arms. 

Soon  after,  came  out  the  letter  of  Charles  to  the 
Duke  of  Ormond,  his  lieutenant  in  Ireland,  written 
just  before  he  left  Oxford,  in  which  he  stated  that 
he  had  gone  to  the  Scotch,  on  the  strength  of  their 
promise  to  support  his  claims.  The  Scotch,  alarmed  at 
this  implied  charge  of  bad  faith  on  their  part,  towards 
parliament,  instantly,  in  strong  northern  dialect,  pro- 
nounced the  declaration  "  a  most  damnable  untruth." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

BETWEEN    THE    CIVIL    WARS     FROM    THE    SPRING    OF    1646, 
TO    THAT    OF    1648. 

Struggle  between  the  Presbyterians  and  Independents — Negotiations 
with  the  King — Bargain  of  Parliament  with  Scotland — The  King 
Given  up — The  Presbyterians  Resolve  to  Overthrow  Cromwell,  and 
the  Independents — Successful  Plot  of  Cromwell  to  Carry  off  the 
King — The  Army  Refuses  to  Disband,  and  Remonstrates  with  Parlia- 
meixt — Marches  on  London — Consternation  of  the  People — Expul- 
sion of  the  Eleven  Members,  and  Occupation  of  London  by  the 
Troops — Triumph  of  the  Independents — New  Character  of  the  Re- 
volution— Slanderers  of  Cromwell — Interview  of  the  King  with  His 
Children — Noble  Attempt  of  Cromwell  to  Induce  the  King  to  Ac- 
cept the  Throne  under  Restrictions  which  Should  Secure  the 
Liberties  of  the  People — Denounced  by  the  Army  for  It-Discovers 
the  Treachery  of  the  King — His  Flight — Mutiny  in  the  Army 
— Quelled  by  Cromwell — Treaty  of  the  King  with  the  Scotch — 
Anger  of  the  Parliament,  which  Resolves  to  Settle  the  Nation  with- 
out Him — Cromwell  Consults  the  Leaders  as  to  the  Form  of  Gov- 
ernment to  be  adopted — Commencement  of  the  Insurrection — 
Mob  in  London — Presbyterians  again  Obtain  the  Ascendency,  and 
Cromwell  Departs  for  Wsies — His  Previous  Sickness — His  Son 
Richard  Contracts  a  Marriage — Prayer-Meeting  in  the  Army. 

From  the  time  of  the  king's  flight  from  Oxford, 
April,  1646,  to  May,  1648,  the  sword  of  war  was 
sheathed  in  England ;  and  the  army  lay  quiet,  ex- 
cept as  it  gave  its  opinion  of  certain  acts  of  par- 
liament, or  served  to  check  its  tyranny.     During  these 


148  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

two  years,  political  and  religious  affairs  were  in  inex- 
tricable confusion.  Between  the  king,  and  parliament, 
and  Presbyterians,  and  Independents,  everything  got 
reduced  to  chaos.  In  parliament,  the  Presbyterians 
and  Independents  struggled  against  each  other,  as 
the  Girondists  and  Mountain  in  the  French  conven- 
tion. At  first,  the  great  question  was,  what  should  be 
done  with  the  king,  then  in  the  Scottish  camp.  The 
Scotch  besought  his  majesty  to  subscribe  to  the  cove- 
nant, and  end  the  troubles  of  his  distracted  kingdom — 
nay,  even  went  so  far  as  to  send  a  clergyman  to 
convert  him.  The  parliament  declared  that  the 
Scotch  had  nothing  to  do  with  their  lawful  sovereign, 
and  w^ere  bound  to  give  him  up.  The  latter  replied, 
that  he  was  their  prince,  as  w^ell  as  that  of  England. 
Parliament  then  endeavored  to  get  rid  of  the  Scot- 
tish army  altogether;  and  mutual  recriminations  and 
revilings,  threatened  an  open  rupture.  All  this  pleased 
the  king,  and  excited  his  hopes;  for,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  one  or  the  other  party,  he  fondly  believed 
he  should  be  able  again  to  mount  the  throne. 

At  length,  in  July,  parhament  sent  proposals  to 
him,  on  the  acceptance  of  which,  he  could  be  rein- 
stated in  power.  But,  like  the  sybil's  book,  he  found 
that,  with  every  rejection  of  the  hard  conditions, 
some  lines  he  wished  to  retain  were  torn  out,  while 
the  price  remained  the  same.  He  was  now  required 
to  subscribe  to  the  covenant — to  abolish  the  Episco- 
pal Church — surrender  to  parliament,  for  twenty  years, 
the   whole    military   power   of   the  kingdom — exclude 


1646.]         PROPOSALS     TO     THE     KING.  149 

seventy  of  his  personal  friends  from  any  amnesty— 
and,  lastly,  to  grant,  that  all  persons  who  had  fought 
in  his  behalf,  should  be  ineligible  to  any  public  office, 
unless  at  the  pleasure  of  parliament.  Charles  had 
never  before  pondered  such  hard  conditions.  Still  his 
friends  urged  him  to  accept  them — even  his  wife, 
in  France,  threw  in  her  entreaty ;  but  humbled  and 
helpless  as  he  was,  he  could  not  consent  to  un- 
crown himself  so  utterly,  and  seal  his  own  dis- 
honor, in  the  sight  of  the  world.  The  partial  con- 
cessions wrung  out  of  him,  by  the  entreaties  of  his 
friends,  would  not  answer :  parliament  would  have  the 
whole,  or  nothing.  He,  therefore,  rejected  the  pro- 
posals, to  the  great  delight  of  the  Independents,  w^ho 
feared  nothing  so  much  as  a  coalition  between  him 
and  the  Presbyterians.  The  latter  were  proportiona- 
bly  crest-fallen;  for  they  saw  no  way  to  make  a 
compact  with  the  king,  which  the  people  vvould  not 
repudiate. 

Thus  matters  stood  with  parties  in  parliament,  while 
the  two  kingdoms  were  quarreling  about  the  disposal 
of  his  majesty's  person.  In  the  meantime,  the  king  was 
treated  with  the  utmost  respect;  and  he,  in  turn,  at- 
tended the  Presbyterian  meetings,  and  showed  all 
proper  decorum  to  the  ministers.  His  fallen  great- 
ness touched  the  sympathy  of  the  people;  and,  on 
one  occasion,  a  clergyman  at  Newcastle,  whither "  he 
had  been  carried,  took,  for  his  text,  that  passage  in 
2d  Samuel,  beginning,  "And,  behold,  all  the  men 
of  Israel  came  to   the   king,   and   said  to  him,  Why 


150  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

have  our  brethren,  the  men  of  Judah,  stolen  thee 
away,  and  have  brought  the  king,  and  his  household, 
and  all  David's  men  \vith  him,  over  Jordan,"  &c.* 
At  another  time,  the  preacher,  in  his  presence,  giving 
out  the  psalm — 

"  Why  dost  thou,  tyrant,  boast  thyself 
The  wicked  deeds  to  praise '?" — 

the  king  arose,  and  called  for  the  one  commencing — 

"  Have  mercy,  Lord  !  on  me,  I  pray, 
For  men  would  me  deceive  ;" 

which  the  sympathizing  audience  immediately  sung. 
These,  how^ever,  were  mere  expressions  of  feeling 
from  powerless  men.  His  enemies  kept  resolutely  on 
their  course. 

At  length,  the  Scotch  parliament  decreed,  that  the 
king  should  be  set  at  liberty,  and  sent  to  London  : 
but  the  assembly  of  divines  countermanded  this  order, 
and  parliament  submitted.  They  declared  it  wicked 
and  impolitic,  to  release  a  monarch,  whose  hatred  to 
the  covenant  was  so  great,  that  he  would  not  sign  it, 
even  to  purchase  back  his  throne. 

The  matter  was  finally  adjusted  in  a  more  business- 
like way.  The  Scots  wanted  indemnity  for  the  ex- 
penses of  the  war  they  had  carried  on  for  their  sister 
kingdom;  and  parliament  longed  to  get  possession  of 
the  king.  The  former  demanded  nearly  £700,000, 
which  the  parliament  cut  down  to  £400,000 — half 
to  be  paid  immediately,  and  the  remaining  portion  in 

*  Vide  Clarendon,  Book  X.,  602. 


1647.]  THE     KING     GIVEN     UP.  151 

two  separate  instalments.  Nothing  was  said  about 
the  person  of  the  king,  in  this  agreement;  but  it  was 
perfectly  well  understood,  that  he  was  to  be  surren- 
dered on  the  reception  of  the  money.  Skippon,  with 
a  strong  escort,  took  charge  of  the  £200,000,  which  was 
conveyed  in  thirty-six  carts  to  the  Scottish  head-quarters. 
About  the  same  time,  January  6,  1647,  the  commis- 
sioners of  the  Scotch  parliament  arrived,  with  an 
order  from  that  body,  to  have  the  king  surrendered  up 
to  the  English  parliament.  Charles  was  playing  chess, 
when  the  letter  announcing  the  fact  was  delivered  to 
him. ;  but,  without  manifesting  any  emotion,  he  quietly 
laid  it  aside,  and  finished  the  game.  A  few  days  after 
he  was  handed  over  to  the  English  troops,  and  took  his 
departure  for  Nottingham.  On  his  way,  the  people 
afflicted  with  the  king's  evil,  crowded  around  him,  to 
receive  his  touch;  and  many  demonstrations  of  sympa- 
thy and  allegiance  served  somewhat  to  lighten  his  sor- 
rows. Arrived  at  Nottingham,  the  head-quarters  of 
Fairfax,  the  latter  went  out  to  meet  him,  and  dismount- 
ing, kissed  his  hand,  then  rode  respectfully  by  his  side 
into  the  town.  On  his  departure  for  Holmby  the  next 
day,  he  said  that  Fairfax  "  v/as  a  man  of  honor,  for  he 
had  kept  his  word  with  hi?n" — a  compliment  not  one 
of  the  king's  enemies  could  reciprocate. 

ATTEMPT     TO    CRUSH     THE    ARMY. 

This  was  on  the  16th  of  Februarv;  and,  soon  after, 
parliament  passed  a  law  establishing  the  Presbyterian 


152  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

form  of  church  government.  It  was  also  resolved, 
that  the  army  should  be  disbanded,  except  twelve  thou- 
sand, who  had  been  destined  for  Ireland  to  aid  the 
persecuted  Protestants,  and  those  necessary  for  gar- 
risons and  police  regulations.  Fairfax,  whom  they 
were  unable  to  remove,  was  to  have  no  officer  under 
him  of  higher  rank  than  a  colonel,  and  he  not  a 
member  of  parliament ;  and  even  these  subordinates 
were  required  to  conform  to  the  Presbyterian  Church, 
and  sign  the  covenant.  This  was  a  bold  push;  and 
Cromwell  saw,  at  once,  its  object.  The  Presbyte- 
rians, by  the  recent  elections,  had  regained  their  ascen- 
dancy; and,  were  now  determined  to  make  good  use 
of  their  pov/er,  and  crush  the  Independents  at  one 
blov/.  Under  pretence  of  rooting  out  heresies  and 
schisms  almost  endless,  they  endeavored  to  get  rid  ol 
the  Independent  army,  now  their  chief  fear.  There 
was  sufficient  lawlessi\ess  of  behef,  no  doubt,  to  de- 
mand some  action,  if  they  would  not  see  rampant 
radicalism  overturn  everything  stable  and  orderly : 
but,  in  this  movement,  they  struck  at  the  good  and 
bad  alike.  Days  of  fasting  and  prayer  were  de- 
creed, to  show  that  religious  zeal  lay  at  the  bottom 
of  the  despotic  measure ;  but  the  army  was  not  to  be 
deceived. 

While  such  portentous,  clouds  were  gathering  over 
the  party  of  Oliver,  w^e  hear  little  of  him.  He, 
too,  was  for  order ;  but  not  for  that  which  classed 
h.im,  and  the  brave  officers  who  had  toiled  with  him 
over  so   many   battle-fields,    with    the   disorderly.     lu 


1647.]         HIS     SKILLFUL     MANAGEMENT.  153 

the  oppressive  rigor  with  which  the  Presbyterian  gov- 
ernment began  to  persecute  all  dissenters,  he  saw  but 
episcopacy  under  a  new  name.  If  this  was  to  be 
the  final  "settlement  of  the  nation,"  he  had  fought  in 
vain ;  and  liberty  of  conscience  had  been  only  a  vv'ord 
with  which  to  beguile  true-hearted  men  into  the  con- 
flict. That  be,  with  his  deep  penetrating  glance,  fath- 
omed all  this,  and  resolved  to  thwart  it,  no  one  can 
doubt.  The  votes,  it  is  true,  were  against  him  in  parlia- 
ment ;  but  the  army  was  not  yet  disbanded,  and  would 
not  be  till  he  gave  the  word.  He  had  powerful  friends 
there  whom  the  soldiers  adored — the  gallant  Lam- 
bert, the  stern  Ireton,  and  Hammond,  and  Pride,  and 
Rainsborough,  and  others;  and  more  than  all,  the  love 
of  himself,  still  strong  in  those  brave  hearts.  What 
conferences  he  had  with  them  and  what  plans  were  pro- 
posed Vv^e  know  not — reliable  history  is  silent  on  this 
part  of  his  life,  but  we  soon  find  the  army  petitioning 
parliament.  First  came  a  mild  and  respectful  petition, 
signed  by  fourteen  officers,  asking  for  arrears  of  pay, 
before  going  to  Ireland.  The  parliament  resented  this  as 
an  affi'ont,  and  rebuked  the  army.  A  sterner  petition 
follovv^ed,  addressed  not  to  parliament,  but  to  Fairfax, 
declaring  that  no  one  should  go  to  Ireland  against  his 
will,  and  still  demanding  pay.  Fairfax  was  commanded 
to  put  a  stop  to  these  proceedings,  which  he  promised 
to  do. 

Meanwhile,  the  necessary  steps  towards  disbanding 
the  troops  w^ere  resumed — the  corps  for  Ireland  was 
formed,  and  Skippon  and  Massey  appointed  to  command 


154  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

it.  But  when  the  commissioners  went  to  announce  this 
decree  at  Saffron  Walden,  the  head-quarters  of  the 
army,  tw^o  hundred  officers  assembled  at  Fairfax's 
house,  and  boldly  told  them  that  though  they  respected 
and  loved  Skippon,  they  would  have  their  old  and  well 
tried  commanders,  "  Fairfax  and  Cromwell,"  or  none. 
A  fortnight  after  this,  a  hundred  and  forty-one  officers 
sent  a  petition  to  parliament,  justifying  their  course, 
and  declaring,  that  'although  they  were  soldiers,  they 
v^rere  still  citizens  of  the  commonwealth,  and  had  a  right 
to  act  for  its  interests.  On  the  heels  of  this  petition 
came  another,  which  Skippon  immediately  read  to  the 
astonished  parliament.  It  was  brought  by  three  private 
soldiers,  and  contained  the  absolute  refusal  of  eight  regi- 
ments of  horse  to  serve  in  Ireland.  It  boldly  accused 
the  leaders  of  the  measure  of  being  tyrants,  whose  only 
design  was  to  divide  the  soldiers  from  the  officers  they 
loved.  The  announcement  of  this  open  revolt,  and  this 
stern  accusation,  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  on  the  Presby- 
terians. The  three  soldiers  were  immediately  sum- 
moned before  the  House.  "Where  was  this  letter 
got  up?"  asked  the  Speaker.  "At  a  meeting  of  the 
regiments,"  was  the  reply.  "  Who  w^rote  it  ?"  "  A 
council  of  delegates  chosen  by  the  regiments."  "Did 
your  officers  sanction  it?"  "But  few  of  them  knew 
anything  about  it."  He  then  asked  them  if  they  were 
ever  cavaliers.  They  replied  they  were  not;  that 
they  had  been  in  the  army  from  the  battle  of  Edgehill 
down ;  and  one  of  them  stepping  forward,  said  he  had 
been  wounded  five  times  in  one  battle,  and  appealed  tc 


1647.]  ANGER     OF     THE     ARMY.  155 

Skippon  for  the  truth  of  his  statement.  The  general 
remembered  the  brave  fellow,  whom  he  had  succored 
while  bleeding  on  the  field.  To  the  question  respecting 
the  accusation  of  tyranny,  they  replied  they  were  mere 
agents,  and  had  nothing  to  do  but  bear  back  the  answer 
of  the  House.*  The  smothered  indignation  then  broke 
forth,  and  threats  were  hurled  against  the  refractory 
regiments.  Ludlow  says  that  in  the  midst  of  this  tumult, 
Cromwell,  who  was  next  him,  bent  over  and  whispered, 
"these  men  (referring  to  the  Presbyterian  leaders)  will 
never  leave  till  the  army  pull  them  out  by  the  ears." 
Significant  language  and  somewhat  prophetic — the  full 
scope  of  which  the  prophet,  perhaps,  knew  better  than 
anybody  else. 

The  anger  of  parliament,  at  length,  gave  way  to 
alarm,  for  the  army  was  evidently  banding  together 
against  it ; — already  had  it  erected  a  sort  of  independent 
government,  in  the  shape  of  two  councils — one  com- 
posed of  officers — the  other,  a  kind  of  lower  house  of 
adjutators,  as  they  were  called,  and  chosen  by  the  private 
soldiers  to  represent  their  interests.  Added  to  this,  was 
the  report  that  it  had  made  proposals  to  the  king. 
Something  must  be  done  immediately,  and  so  in  May 
two  months'  pay  was  voted  to  the  troops  who  would 
disband — a  general  anmesty  decreed  to  all  offenders 
during  the  war,  and  money  appropriated  to  the  widows 
and  families  of  soldiers.  Cromwell,  Ire  ton,  Skippon 
and  Fleetwood,  favorite  generals  in  the  army,  were  ap- 
pointed  commissioners   to  carry  out   these   measures. 

*  Vide  Ruslnvorth,  Whitelocke,  and  others. 


1 56  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

After  a  fortnight's  labor,  they  returned  with  written 
articles  of  agreement  proposed  by  the  army.  Parlia- 
ment thanked  Cromwell  for  the  manner  in  which  he 
had  discharged  his  duty ;  but  instead  of  acting  on  the 
articles  submitted,  passed  regulations  of  its  own,  and 
despatched  commissioners  to  head-quarters  to  carry 
them  out,  and  thus  effect  a  final  settlement.  But  the 
conditions  did  not  suit  the  army.  Eight  weeks'  pay  had 
been  voted  them ; — they  wanted  "  eight  times  eight,"  and 
would  not  disband  without  it. 

The  commissioners  found  all  in  commotion — regi- 
ments, whose  officers  attempted  in  vain  to  quell  them, 
were  seen,  without  leaders,  marching  with  colors  flying 
to  those  who  stood  firm  against  the  parliament.  The 
money  sent  to  pay  the  troops  who  should  disband 
peaceably,  was  seized — the  soldiers  clamored  for  their 
rights,  and  demanded  that  a  general  meeting  should  be 
called,  where  their  grievances  might  be  listened  to.  A 
council  of  officers  was  immediately  assembled,  who 
voted  almost  unanimously,  that  the  decrees  of  parlia- 
ment were  unjust ;  and  appointed  a  grand  meeting  of  all 
the  troops.  It  took  place  near  Newmarket,  June  6th, 
and  the  soldiers,  after  much  haranguing,  praying  and 
agitation,  entered  into  a  solemn  covenant  to  defend 
themselves  against  the  oppressive  acts  of  parliament. 

Meanwhile,  the  king  was  at  Holmby,  ready  to  take 
advantage  of  these  dissensions,  and  league  himself  with 
either  party,  which  would  best  secure  his  own  advance- 
ment. 


1647.]  SEIZURE     OF     THE     KING.  157 


THE    KING    SEIZED. 


But  on  the  2d  day  of  June,  there  occun'ed  a  singular 
interruption  to  his  quiet  hfe.     It  was  a  pleasant  summer 
day,  and  he  was   out  in  the  open  country,  about  two 
miles   from    Holmby,   playing   at    bowls   on   Althorpe 
down,   when   suddenly  a  stranger,  in  the  uniform  of 
Fairfax's  guards,  was  seen  standing  in  the  midst  of  the 
parUamentary   commissioners   who    had    accompanied 
him  to  his  pastime.     While  they  were  questioning  him, 
the  news  came  that  a  large  body  of  horse  was  approach- 
ing Holmby.     The  stranger  was  asked  if  he  had  heard 
of  them.     '•'/  saw  them  yesterday,"  he  repUed,  "not 
thirty  miles  off."     On  this,  all  mounted  in  haste  and 
galloped  back  to  Holmby,  the  gates  of  which  were  im- 
mediately shut.     The   report   was   true.     One    cornet 
Joyce,   apparently  without  orders,  had  sallied  out  of 
Oxford,  with  five  hundred  troopers  at  his  back,  to  seize 
the  king,   and  carry  him  by  force,  to  the  army.     He 
arrived  at  midnight  before  the  castle,  and  demanded 
admission.     Some  show  of  resistance  was  made  at  first, 
but  the  garrison,  after  a  little  conversation   with  the 
soldiers  outside,  lowered  the  portcullis  and  opened  the 
gates,  and  those  five  hundred  horsemen  came  clattering 
into  the  courtyard,  and  dismounted  as  quietly  as  if  m 
their  own  barracks. 

The  castle  was  in  the  bold  cornet's  hands,  and  the 
commissioners,  after  some  hours  parley,  gave  up  all 
idea  of  resistance.     At  ten  o'clock  that  night,  Joyce 


1 58  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  VV  E  L  L  . 

demanded  to  see  the  king.  He  was  told  that  he  was 
in  bed.  "  I  don't  care,"  he  replied,  "  I  must  see  him ;" 
and  with  a  cocked  pistol  in  his  hand,  he  proceeded  to 
the  apartment  of  Charles.  The  guards  at  the  door 
refused  him  entrance,  at  which  Joyce  grew  indignant. 
Sharp  w^ords  and^  threats  passed  between  them,  which 
roused  the  king,  who  ordered  him  to  be  admitted.  He 
then  entered  into  a  long  conversation  with  Joyce;  and 
finding  how  matters  stood,  bade  him  good-night,  pro- 
mising, if  the  soldiers  confirmed  his  statements,  to  go 
with  him  the  next  morning.  In  the  morning,  Joyce 
drew  up  his  squadrons  in  the  castle  yard,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  the  king's  apartment.  Charles  met  him  at 
the  top  of  the  stairs,  and  asked  him  by  what  authority 
he  pretended  to  seize  him.  He  replied,  by  that  of  the 
army.  The  king  told  him  that  was  not  legal,  and 
inquired  if  he  had  a  written  order  from  Fairfax.  Joyce 
still  replying  indefinitely,  the  king  said,  "Come,  Mr. 
Joyce,  be  frank  with  me,  and  tell  me  where  is  your 
commission  ?"  '•'  There  it  is,  sir,"  he  replied,  pointing 
to  the  court  yard  below.  "  Where  ?"  repeated  the 
king.  "  There,  sir  ;"  and  the  king  saw  the  dark  ranks 
of  his  followers  drawn  up  in  perfect  order,  and  waiting 
their  leader's  commands.  "  Your  instructions  are  writ- 
ten in  very  legible  characters,"  said  Charles ;  "  'tis  truly 
a  fair  commission — you  have  as  handsome  a  company 
as  I  have  seen  for  a  great  while."  He  then  asked 
where  he  was  to  be  carried.  "  To  Oxford,"  said  Joyce. 
The  king  objecting  to  this  place,  as  well  as  to  Cam- 
bridge, he  was  taken,  at  his  own  request,  to  Newmarket. 


THE     KING     WITH     THE     ARMY.  159 

Joyce  immediately  despatched  a  messenger  to  London 
to  announce  his  success  to  Cromwell,  or,  in  his  absence, 
to  Arthur  Haselrig  or  Col.  Fleetwood.  The  latter 
received  it:  for  Cromwell  had  already  departed  for 
head-quarters,  where  he  arrived  before  the  king. 

Parliament  was  astounded  at  the  news;  and  the 
whole  kingdom  thrown  into  a  state  of  alarm.  "The 
king  is  with  the  army,  and  the  army  is  against  par- 
liament!" such  was  the  startling  fact  that  pressed  itself  on 
every  man's  attention.  The  officers  who  were  members 
of  the  House,  were  immediately  ordered  to  the  head  of 
their  regiments:  Cromwell,  as  already  seen,  had  not 
waited  for  commands;  and  on  the  same  day  that  the 
vote  was  carried,  held  an  interview  with  the  king,  at 
head-quarters.  Fairfax  was  troubled  to  find  Charles  in 
his  custody ;  and  demanded  to  know  by  whose  authority 
he  had  been  seized.  "  By  mine,"  said  Ireton  ;  "  I  ga\^ 
orders  that  the  king  should  be  seized  at  Holmby,  not 
brought  off."  "It  was  necessary,"  said  Cromwell,  "or 
the  king  would  have  been  seized  by  parliament."  Two 
days  after,  the  officers  presented  themselves,  in  a  body, 
to  the  king — most  of  them  kissing  his  hand:  but  OU- 
ver   and  Ireton  sternly  stood  aside. 

No  sooner  had  Cromwell  seen  how  things  were  settled 
at  head-quarters,  than  he,  according  to  Guizot,  hastened 
back  to  parliament,  knowing  that  a  storm  was  gathering 
over  his  head.  When  he  took  his  seat  in  the  House, 
every  eye  was  turned  upon  him ;  and  every  soul  felt  that 
he  was  at  the  bottom  of  this  deep-laid  plan — so  deep, 
that  no   proof  of  the  real    author   could   be  obtained. 


IGO  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Grimston  arose  and  boldly  accused  him  of  designing  to 
employ  the  army  against  parliament ;  and  brought  for- 
ward two  officers,  who  testified  that  he  had  said,  the 
House  of  Commons  must  be  purged,  and  "  that  the  army 
alone  could  do  it."  Upon  this,  Cromwell  made  a  speech^ 
declaring  his  innocence,  with  tears  and  sobs,  and  the 
most  solemn  protestations ;  which  so  wrought  upon  the 
House,  that  it  dropped  the  prosecution. 

This  whole  affair  of  Cromwell's  accusation  and  de- 
fence, making  him  out  a  hypocrite,  liar  and  perjurer,  as 
given  by  Guizot,  is  quoted  by  him  from  a  note  in  Har- 
ris's life  of  Cromwell.  We  took  some  pains  to  trace  the 
statement  to  its  source ;  and  found,  at  last,  that  it  rested 
alone  on  Mr.  Grimston's — the  accuser's — declaration. 
It  bears  on  its  face  the  evidence  of  falsehood;  not 
only  from  its  being  inconsistent  with  the  character 
of  Cromwell,  but  also  from  the  silence  of  other  his- 
torians respecting  it.  Such  men  as  Hume  and  Cla- 
rendon would  not  have  omitted  so  marked  an  evi- 
dence of  his  duplicity  and  falsehood.  Besides,  his 
enemies  have  never  given  him  credit  for  being 
an  orator;  nay,  on  the  contrary,  pronounce  him  a 
heavy  speaker:  yet  here,  he  completely  deludes  and 
masters  his  enemies  by  his  consummate  acting.  If 
anything  more  were  w^anting  to  throw  utter  discredit 
upon  this  account,  as  given  in  all  its  details,  by  Guizot 
and  others,  it  would  be  found  in  the  fact  that  no  traces 
of  it  are  left  on  the  records  of  the  House :  it  rests  solely 
on  Grimston's  after  assertions. 

A\  all  events,  he  was  with  the  army,  June  7th,  at  the 


1G47.]  GRAND     ARMY     MEETING.  161 

reception  of  the  king,  and  again  June  10th,  at  its  great 
rendezvous,  on  Triploe  Heath,  near  Cambridge. 

A  day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  set  apart  to  ask  God's 
direction  in  the  course  they  should  adopt,  preceded  this 
grand  gathering  of  the  soldiers.  At  the  appointed  time 
twenty-one  thousand  men  marched  to  the  place  of  ren- 
dezvous, to  decide  on  the  acts  of  parliament.  It  was  a 
solemn  sight  there  on  the  summer  morning,  those 
twenty-one  thousand  men,  assembled  to  demand  their 
rights.  As  they  stood  in  perfect  order,  Fairfax,  with  the 
commissioners  from  parliament,  rode  to  the  head 
of  the  regiments  to  know  if  they  acquiesced  in  the 
votes  of  parliament.  The  question  was  submitted  to 
each  regiment  separately,  to  be  decided  by  ballot. 
Parliament  had  scarce  one  on  its  side;  and  when 
the  commissioners  read  the  result  aloud,  a  deep  murmur 
ran  through  the  host,  and  then  the  shout  of  "  Justice  ! 
Justice  !"  rolled  over  the  field  and  shook  the  deep  vault 
of  heaven. 

That  very  afternoon  the  order  to  march  was  given, 
and  the  army  began  to  move  towards  London,  while  a 
long  letter,  setting  forth  their  grievances,  and  signed 
by  thirteen  of  the  principal  officers,  was  despatched  to 
parhament.  This  letter,  throughout,  bears  the  stamp 
of  Cromwell's  mind.  First  came  a  plain  statement  of 
facts ;  then  a  defence  of  their  motives  and  conduct,  and 
last  of  all,  a  solemn  warning,  and  a  hint  about  London 
being  given  up  to  the  soldiers,  &c.,  which  made  the 
city  turn  pale,  and  honorable  members  tremble  in  their 
seats. 


162  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

No  one  can  doubt  that  Oliver  vv^as  at  the  bottom 
of  all  this.  He  saw,  in  the  first  attempt  of  the  Presby- 
terians to  disband  the  army,  the  plan  to  crush  himself 
and  friends  and  liberty  clearly  developed;  and  he 
resolved  to  thwart  it,  not  by  long  speeches  in  parlia- 
ment, but  steady,  resolute  action.  The  organization  of 
the  two  councils  in  the  army,  was  evidently  his  v/ork  ; 
for,  through  his  friends  in  these,  he  could  reach  every 
man,  and  yet  not  be  discerned.  So,  also,  was  the  forci- 
ble removal  of  the  king  his  doings,  though  the  exact 
extent  of  his  agency  in  the  matter  has  never  been 
known.  He  probably  induced  Ireton  to  take  the 
responsibility  of  sending  Joyce  to  watch  Charles  at 
Holmby  Castle,  and  baffle  the  designs  of  the  Presby- 
terians, while  at  the  same  time  he  caused  an  intimation 
to  be  conveyed  to  the  bold  cornet,  that  he  vras  to  bring 
his  majesty  away  to  the  army.  The  Presbyterians  had 
resolved  to  get  him  in  their  power,  and  to  this  end  had 
passed  a  vote,  requesting  him  to  take  up  his  residence 
in  Oatlands  castle,  near  London.  Cromwell,  who  saw 
at  once  the  advantage  this  would  give  his  enemies, 
determined  to  prevent  it,  and  seize  the  king  himself. 
From  his  seat  in  parliament,  he  looked  around  him,  and 
reaching  out  one  hand  towards  his  sovereign,  and  the 
other  towards  the  army,  he  had  them  both  in  his  power 
before  his  foes  were  aware  that  he  had  m^ade  the  first 
movement.  By  his  adroit  management,  he  succeeded 
in  quieting  all  suspicion  in  the  House,  until  his  plans 
were  fully  matured ;  then  throwing  aside  the  mask  of 
respectfulness  he  had  so  long  worn  over  a  heart  burst- 


1647.]  HIS     POWER     OVER     OTHERS.  163 

ing  with  scorn  aiid  indignation,  he  placed  himself  at 
the  head  of  the  army,  and  pointing  with  his  sword 
towards  London,  gave  the  order  to  march. 

Could  this  masterly  scheme,  from  the  first  initial  step, 
to  its  final  consummation,  "be  unravelled,  w^e  should  get  a 
new  insight  into  the  amazing  intellect,  sleepless  indus- 
try, and  untiring  energy  of  tJiis  wonderful  man.  He 
had  not  to  do  with  supple  knaves,  to  whom  a  fail 
prospect  of  success  was  a  sufficient  motive ;  but  stern 
republicans,  clear-headed  thinkers,  and  conscientious 
men.  How  he  succeeded  in  harmonizing  the  con- 
flicting elements,  and  binding  together,  as  one  man, 
characters  so  diametrically  opposite,  and  finally  concen- 
trating all  the  energy  of  that  terrible  army  in  his  single 
will,  must  ever  remain  a  mystery  to  those  historians  who 
underrate  his  intellect.  To  account  for  it  on  the  ground 
of  cunning  and  hypocrisy,  augurs  either  a  bigot,  rendered 
incapable  of  judgment  by  prejudice,  or  a  mind  too  weak 
to  estimate  the  men  and  events  of  that  period.  Grant- 
ing he  was  false  and  treacherous  as  Judas,  it  furnishes  no 
explanation  of  his  astonishing  success.  Mere  duplicity 
never  yet  combatted  a  parliament  and  army,  and  single- 
handed  struggled  against  the  machinations  of  men  in 
power,  and  came  off*  triumphant.  The  truth  is,  Crom- 
well possessed  a  grasp  of  mind  seldom  equalled.  He 
not  only  easily  penetrated  the  plans  woven  directly 
about  his  feet,  but  saw  farther  than  all  other  men  of  his 
time — and  slowly  gathering  into  his  mighty  hand  the 
tangled  threads  of  the  revolution,  at  length,  swayed  the 
kingdom   by  his   touch.     In    one  respect,   he   bears  a 


164  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Striking  resemblance  to  Bonaparte  and  Washington,  for 
like  them,  he  took,  at  a  single  glance,  the  measure  of 
ever}'-  man  who  approached  him.  He  read  both  their 
weaknesses  and  capabilities  without  an  effort,  and 
knew  intuitively  what  motives  to  apply,  and  what  use 
to  make  of  them.  It  was  this  strange  practical  sagaci- 
ty tliat  gave  him  such  power  over  all  who  approached 
him.  He  seemed  to  penetrate  their  inmost  hearts,  and  to 
command  them,  because  he  had  a  right  so  to  do.  The 
subtle  Vane,  perhaps  the  greatest  diplomatist  of  his 
time,  yielded  to  his  loftier  intellect,  and  the  lion-hearted 
Fairfax  acknowledged  him  his  superior  in  the  field. 
Ireton  and  Lambert,  the  clear-headed  lawyers,  and  able 
and  fearless  commanders,  Vv^orked  like  slaves  at  his 
behest,  and  even  the  turbulent  ai'my  quailed  before  his 
master  spirit. 

It  is  amusing  to  hear  the  defenders  of  Charles  make 
the  sagacity  of  Cromwell,  and  the  skilful  manner  in 
which  he  used  the  instruments  in  his  hands,  evi- 
dences of  hypocrisy  and  guilt.  They  would  have  him 
tell  Harrison  he  was  a  dupe  to  believe  in  the  second 
advent  of  Christ,  and  forbid  a  free  thinker  to  draw  a 
sword  in  battle  ; — indeed,  divulge  every  plan  he  laid 
to  thwart  his  enemies,  and  declare  beforehand  how  he 
designed  to  unravel  and  defeat  their  plots,  in  order  to  be 
an  honest  man.  In  short,  he  must  not  employ  a  single 
wicked  person  in  his  service,  or  make  the  least  use  of 
his  knowledge  of  other  men's  characters,  to  bend  them 
to  his  purpose,  if  he  would  escape  the  charge  of  hypoc- 
risy.    Every  great  and  good  design  must  be  abandoned, 


1647.]  HIS     COURSE     JUSTIFIED.  165 

unless  weak,  or  bigoted,  or  obstinate  men,  could  be 
nfiade  to  understand  and  approve  it.  That  is,  a  man 
cannot  resolve  on  anything  beyond  the  capacity  and 
virtue  of  those  with  whom  he  is  associated ;  for,  if  he 
does,  he  will  be  compelled  to  win  them  to  his  views  by 
such  motives  as  are  adapted  to  their  characters,  and 
not  by  those  which  govern  him.  The  whole  argument 
on  this  pomt,  is  reduced  to  the  simple  axiom:  "  To  he  a 
diplomatist,  is  necessarily,  to  he  a  dishonest  man." 

Subtle  scheming,  which  has  for  its  ends  self-aggrand- 
izement at  the  sacrifice  of  justice  and  mercy,  is  base 
and  criminal;  but  adroit  management,  to  secure  har- 
mony among  discordant  elements,  and  union  among 
prejudiced  and  selfish  men,  is  neither.  Thus  to  lull 
parliament  into  security,  while  he  sprung  their  own 
plot  upon  them,  and  save  the  army,  his  friends,  and  the 
kingdom,  by  binding  the  soldiers  together  in  common 
resistance  to  meditated  oppression,  were  acts  only  of 
an  able  statesman  and  upright  leader.  Whom  did 
he  wrong  by  this  successful  plan?  Not  parliament, 
certainly,  for  it  had  taken  the  lead  in  this  war  of  exter- 
mination— not  the  king,  for  he  was  no  more  a  prisoner 
with  the  army  than  with  parliament — not  the  army,  for 
it  was  the  victim  of  injustice  and  ingratitude — not  the 
kingdom,  for  this  step  saved  both  it  and  its  defenders. 
And  yet  Charles,  who  never  stopped  at  any  duplicity 
— would  make  a  treaty  at  the  same  time  with  the 
Scotch  Covenanters  and  the  Irish  Papists — the  Inde- 
pendents and  Presbyterians — break  his  word  to  parlia- 
ment,   and   to   the    kingdom — caress    Cromwell    while 


16G  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

plotting  his  destruction,  and  deluge  the  realm  in  blood, 
solely  for  royal  prerogative,  and  to  obtain  untrammeled 
power,  is  declared  by  his  friends  to  be  a  saint  and  a 
martyr.  They  claim  for  him  the  possession  of  every 
virtue,  while  they  charge  his  enemies  with  hypocrisy 
and  treachery.  Such  palpable  self-contradiction,  argues 
either  a  great  obliquity  of  the  moral  sense,  or  a  judg- 
ment strangely  perverted  by  that  very  prejudice  they 
charge  on  others. 

Thus  far,  we  cannot  see  how  Cromwell  could  have 
done  otherwise  than  he  did,  without  being  untrue  to 
himself,  to  his  friends,  and  the  army,  and  unworthy  of 
the  power  he  held. 

THE  ARMY  MARCHES  ON  LONDON. 

The  letter,  called  a  humble  representation,  which  the 
army  sent  to  parliament,  as  it  took  up  its  line  of  march 
for  London,  was  despatched  on  the  14th  of  June.  The 
news  of  its  advance,  with  Cromwell  at  its  head,  spread 
consternation  among  the  inhabitants.  Some  talked  of 
resistance : — Parliament  passed  votes  of  condemnation  ; 
yet,  still  it  drew  slowly  on.  Concessions  were  made, 
but  they  came  too  late.  The  pay,  so  long  withheld, 
was  voted,  and  the  army  ordered  to  retire;  yet,  stea- 
dily and  sternly  it  continued  to  approach.  It  had 
asked  for  pay,  for  justice,  and  its  prayer  been  denied ; 
and  now,  when  parliament  was  ready  to  grant  every- 
thing formerly  demanded,   it    boldly    accused   eleven 


1647.]  -CHARGE     OP     OROMWELL.  167 

members — the   Presbyterian  leaders — of  high  treason, 
and  insisted  on  their  expulsion.* 

But  parliament  could  not  consent  to  deal  its  own 
death-blow,  and  declared  that  something  more  than 
vague  accusations  were  required.  The  ominous  an- 
swer to  this  was,  that  the  first  accusations  against  Laud 
and  Strafford,  were  also  vague  and  general :  "  In  these 
cases,"  said  the  army,  "  you  furnished  the  proofs  after- 
wards, so  will  we  do  now."  Thus  passed  a  fortnight 
of  terrible  suspense — the  army  slowly  advancing  with 
one  stern  demand  in  its  mouth — the  parhament  fear- 
mg,  hesitating,  and  remonstrating.  Its  respectful  an- 
swers, sent  back  in  three  coaches,  with  outriders,  were 
of  no  avail.  The  very  slowness  with  which  the  army 
advanced,  by  protracting  the  suspense,  deepened  the 
anxiety. 

Between  self-immolation,  and  destruction  by  Crom- 
well's soldiers,  the  Presbyterian  leaders  were  tossed, 
like  a  wrecked  mariner,  from  the  rock  to  the  sea,  and 
the  sea  to  the  rock.  The  mingled  terror  and  indig- 
nation which  mastered  parliament  during  this  fearful 
crisis,  is  powerfully  depicted  by  Holies,  one  of  those 
very  leaders  whose  expulsion  was  demanded.  Speak- 
ing of  the  army,  he  says,  "  They  now  thunder  upon 
us  with  remonstrances,  declarations,  letters,  and  mes- 

♦  These  were  Holies,  Sir  Philip  Stapleton,  Sir  William  Waller, 
Sir  William  Lewis,  Sir  John  Clotworthy,  Recorder  Glynn,  Anthony 
Nichols,  (old  members,)  and  General  Massey,  Colonel  Walter  Long, 
Colonel  Edward  Harely,  and  Sir  John  Maynard,  (new  members,  who 
had  joined  the  old  clique.) 


1(38  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

sages,  every  day ;  making  us  vote  aPxd  unvote,  do  and 
undo;  and  when  they  have  made  us  do  some  ugly 
things,  jeer  us,  and  say  our  doing  justifies  tiieir  desiring 
it.  We  feel  as  low  as  dirt :  we  take  all  our  ordinances 
to  pieces,  change  and  alter  them  according  to  their  minds, 
and,  (what  is  worst  of  all,)  expunge  our  declaration 
against  their  mutinous  petition,  and  cry  peccauimus  to 
save  a  whipping."  "  But,"  he  continues,  "  all  would 
not  do.  The  parliament,  thoroughly  frightened,  is  as 
bad  as  the  army.  Instead  of  a  generous  resistance  to 
perfidious  servants,  vindicating  the  honor  of  parlia- 
ment, discharging  the  trust  that  rests  upon  them  from 
being  ruined,  and  enslaved  to  a  rebellious  army,  they 
deliver  up  themselves  and  kingdom  to  the  will  of  their 
enemies,  prostitute  all  to  the  lust  of  heady  and  violent 
men,  and  suffer  Mr.  Cromwell  to  saddle,  ride,  switch, 
and  spur  them,  at  his  pleasure."  True,  Mr.  Holies ; 
and  even  you  must  confess  that  a  more  gallant  or  stal- 
wart rider  than  this  ''Mr.  Cromwell,''  never  bestrode  an 
unruly  and  vicious  beast.  But  this  poor,  divided  parlia- 
ment is  not  all  that  obeys  his  steady  rein — he  has  a 
team  of  twenty  thousand  resolute  men  in  hand,  that 
needs  no  *' switch  or  spur"  to  excite  into  action.  With 
this,  he  is  driving  full  on  London,  and  the  crack  of  his 
whip  wall  soon  make  England  ring. 

But  complaints,  and  votes,  and  resolutions,  v/ould  not 
do.  The  eleven  members  finding  that  their  time  had 
come,  voluntarily  resigned  their  places  ;  or,  in  other 
w^ords,  "asked  leave  of  absence,"  which  was  granted 
without  any  grief  or  hesitation ;  and  the  army  halted. 


1647.]  MOB     ENTERS     PARLIAMENT.  169 

There  it  lay,  "coiled  up  round  London  and  the  par- 
Hament — advancing  or  receding,"  according  as  its  de- 
mands were  refused  or  granted. 

Thus  matters  proceeded  till  the  latter  end  of  July, 
when  the  Holies  declaration,  proclaiming  all  who  had 
signed  the  army  petition,  enemies  of  the  State,  and  dis- 
turbers of  the  public  peace,  being  expunged;  and  the 
militia  ordinance  placing  the  militia  of  London  in  the 
hands  of  the  Presbyterians  being  revoked,  and  the  army 
paid  off,  all  seemed  settled. 

The  Presbyterians  and  Independents  were  now  of 
about  equal  strength  in  the  House,  and  mutual  con- 
cessions restored  apparent  harmony.  But,  at  this 
juncture,  the  former  made  a  sudden  and  last  rally.  On 
Monday,  July  26th,  a  tremendous  crowd  went  tumul- 
tuously  to  the  House  of  Parliament,  demanding  that 
the  militia  ordinance  should  be  restored,  and  the  eleven 
excluded  members  recalled.  A  sudden  warlike  feel- 
ing had.seized  the  militia,  and  they  declared  themselves 
ready  to  face  the  enemy.  The  petition  was  taken  up ; 
but  the  mob,  becoming  impatient  of  the  debate,  rushed 
to  the  two  halls  of  parliament,  and  endeavored  to 
force  the  doors.  Kept  back  for  awhile  by  the  swords 
of  the  members,  they,  at  length,  overcame  all  opposition, 
and  entered  with  their  hats  on,  crying  out,  "Vote!  vote!" 
till  the  votes  they  demanded  were  actually  passed,  to- 
gether with  another,  requesting  the  king  to  come  imme- 
diately to  London.  The  only  "No"  in  the  House  of 
Commons  was  that  uttered  by  Ludlow. 

The  next  morning,  parliament   had  no  sooner  met, 
8 


170  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

than  it  adjourned  over  to  Friday.  In  the  meanthne, 
the  two  Speakers,  and  more  than  sixty  of  the  members, 
hastened  to  the  army  to  report  matters,  and  place 
themselves  under  its  protection.  They  w^ere  received 
with  enthusiastic  shouts,  and  the  columns  quickly  put 
in  motion.  On  Friday,  the  remaining  members  of 
parliament,  together  with  the  doomed  eleven,  met,  and 
set  about  their  defence  with  resolution  and  energy. 
New  Speakers  ^vere  elected,  and  forces  ordered  to 
be  raised  without  delay,  and  placed  under  Generals 
Massey  and  Poyntz.  The  shops  were  shut — the  drums 
beat  to  arms,  and  groups  of  armed  citizens  were  seen 
hurrying  to  the  place  of  rendezvous.  Fortifications 
were  throv/n  up,  barriers  erected,  and  cannon  planted 
in  the  streets.  As  the  parliament,  with  the  train-bands 
of  London,  formerly  met  the  king's  army,  so  now  would 
they  meet  Cromwell  and  his  troops.  For  five  days  the 
city  shook  with  the  bustling  sound  of  preparation ;  but 
on  the  3d  of  August,  Southwark  declared  it  would  not 
join  in  the  resistance,  and  sent  petitions  to  Fairfax  for 
protection.  General  Poyntz  came  upon  the  crowd 
assembled  around  Guildhall,  petitioning  for  peace,  and 
in  his  rage,  laid  about  him  with  his  sword,  killing 
several  persons.  Massey  still  resolved  to  make  a  stout 
defence,  and  the  soldiers  maintained  a  bold  attitude. 
But  as  the  scouts,  one  after  another,  came  galloping  in, 
repeating  that  the  army,  in  solid  phalanx,  was  marching 
straight  on  the  city,  and  that  the  heads  of  the  columns 
were  almost  within  striking  distance,  all  courage  de- 
serted them,  and  they  resolved   to  send  a  letter  to  the 


1647.]  PARLIAMENT     SUBDUED.  l7l 

General,  asking  for  peace.  Resistance  was  now  at  an 
end ;  and  on  Friday,  6th  of  August,  the  army,  "  three 
deep,"  Cromwell  bringing  up  the  rear,  and  the  soldiers 
wearing  sprigs  of  laurel  in  their  hats,  marched  silently 
and  sternly  in,  and  the  scene  was  ended. 

The  eleven  members  fled,  never  more  to  sit  in  parlia- 
ment. A  detachment  of  horse  was  quartered  in  Hyde 
Park,  and  Cromwell's  and  Ireton's  faithful  followers 
guarded  every  avenue  to  the  House,  as  these  com- 
manders took  their  seats,  and  moved  and  carried,  that 
all  which  had  been  done  by  parliament,  after  the  flight 
of  the  members,  was  null  and  void. 

Thus,  peaceably,  was  consummated  this  sudden 
revolution,  which,  for  a  time,  threatened  a  bloody 
termination.  There  had  been  alarm,  anxiety  and  hesi- 
tation among  all,  even  officers  of  the  army,  but  every- 
thing had  resulted  as  Cromwell  planned.  The  flight  of 
the  members  was  his  suggestion,  and  their  reception  by 
the  army,  the  signal  he  had  resolved  upon,  to  commence 
the  march  on  London. 

The  triumph  of  the  Independents  was  now  complete, 
and  they  looked  upon  Cromwell  as  the  author  of  it. 
This  fixed  him  deeply  in  the  affections  of  all  who 
claimed  liberty  of  conscience,  however  opposed  their 
own  creeds  might  be  to  his. 

From  this  moment,  the  revolution  assumed  a  new 
and  more  dangerous  character.  The  long  and  despe- 
rate struggle  between  the  two  parties,  now  closed,  had 
been  one  of  principle — a  struggle  to  decide  whether  men 
were  to  be  fettered  by  any  religious  forms,  or  to  adopt 


172  OLIVER      CROMWELL. 

whatsoever  belief  pleased  them  best.  The  old  restraints 
were  at  once  taken  off  from  the  human  mind,  and  it 
was  allowed  to  go  forth  mitrammeled  and  free.  The 
effect  of  this  sudden  emancipation,  was  at  first  bewilder- 
ing. To  many,  it  was  like  blotting  out  God  from  the 
universe,  and  enthroning  every  man  on  the  seat  of 
supreme  judgment.  The  most  extravagant  notions — 
even  those  of  the  levellers,  who  believed  in  the  equaliza- 
tion of  property,  w^ere  tolerated.  In  short,  the  torrent 
of  popular  feeling  was  unbound,  and  wdiether  it  would, 
in  its  vast  and  sweeping  flow,  only  manure,  like  the 
floods  of  the  Nile,  the  earth  for  a  future  growth,  or 
leave  a  bleak  and  barren  desert  in  its  track,  was  a  prob- 
lem from  w^hich  even  Cromwell  must  have  turned  with 
alarm.  England  Avas  free — formalism  in  religion,  and 
feudalism  in  State,  were  dead  or  dying ;  and  a  boundless 
prospect  opened  before  all.  A  repubhc,  with  all  its  un- 
tamed energies,  soaring  hope,  and  rash  confidence,  was 
now  inevitable.  Reverence  for  the  king  was  gone 
— parliament  stood  shorn  of  its  powder,  and  it  therefore 
became  an  anxious  question  with  those  who  had 
brought  about  this  state  of  things,  what  the  end  would 
be. 

England  without  a  ruler  seemed  now  a  probable 
event ;  and  the  after  course  of  Cromwell  with  the  unfor- 
tunate Charles,  evidently  grows  out  of  the  difficulties 
this  probability  suggests.  He  had  humbled  the  Pres- 
byterians, and  the  people  shouted  his  praise.  He  had 
established  freedom,  but  where  was  it  to  end.  His 
victory  alarmed   him  more  than  the  opposition  of  his 


1647.]  HIS     DANGEROUS     POSITION.  173 

enemies.  He  had  thrown  the  rems  on  the  necks 
of  the  people,  bidding  them  guide  themselves ;  but 
whither  w^ould  they  guide  the  State  ?  He  began  to  com- 
prehend the  fact,  that  freedom  is  progressive,  and  to 
fear  that  power,  once  bestowed  on  the  people,  was  irre- 
claimable. He  might  then  well  pause  and  suiwey  the 
prospect  around  him.  First,  he  had  taken  up  arms 
against  the  king,  solely  to  bring  him  to  terms  with  his 
parliament.  Unable  to  effect  this,  he  had  broken  his 
armies  into  pieces,  and  finally  seized  his  person.  In 
the  meantime,  parliament  had  passed,  from  its  fear  of 
the  king,  to  alarm  at  the  disorganizing  spirit  abroad, 
and  the  large  liberty  demanded,  tending,  as  it  thought, 
to  downright  anarchy ;  and  hence,  began  to  emulate 
Charles  in  the  religious  oppression  of  his  subjects.  I^er- 
ceiving  this,  Cromwell  saw  that  he  must  either  retire 
and  give  over  the  struggle  as  hopeless,  and  see  the 
fabric  he  had  helped  to  rear,  at  the  cost  of  so  much 
blood,  levelled  with  the  ground,  or  march  his  army  on 
parliament.  Forced,  as  a  man  of  honor  and  conscience, 
to  the  latter  course,  by  the  violence  of  his  enemies,  just 
as  he  had  been  first  forced  into  arms  by  the  violence  of 
the  king,  he  gave  a  mortal  blow  to  the  highest  legisla- 
tive body  of  the  land.  As  he  saw  it  expire,  however, 
he  looked  into  the  blackness  that  lay  beyond  its  burial 
place.  A  disordered  realm,  without  a  king  or  govern- 
ment that  could  be  trusted,  was  the  spectacle  that 
met  his  anxious  gaze.  In  this  crisis,  therefore,  he 
turned  with  a  last  effort  to  Charles,  and  strove  man- 
fully to  secure  the  liberty  and  permanent  peace  of  the 


174  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

kingdom,  and  at  the  same  time  provide  it  with  a  legiti- 
mate sovereign. 

Previous  to  the  movement  of  the  army  on  London, 
negotiations  had  been  opened  with  Charles,  and  pro- 
posals far  more  favorable  than  those  offered  him  at 
Newcastle,  been  submitted.  But  unwilling  to  cast 
himself  with  the  republicans,  just  on  the  eve  of  a 
struggle  between  them  and  parliament ;  and  also  hoping, 
in  the  crash  that  must  follow,  to  obtain,  somehow,  more 
favorable  terms  for  himself,  he  would  come  to  no  defi- 
nite understanding. 

In  the  m.eantime,  he  asked  an  interview  with  his 
children ;  and  the  Dukes  of  York  and  Gloucester,  aged, 
the  one  fourteen,  and  the  other  seven,  and  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  twelve  years  of  age,  met  him  at  Maidstone, 
and  passed  two  days  with  him  at  Eversham.  Cromwell 
was  present  at  the  meeting,  and  the  emotions  exhibit- 
ed by  the  unhappy  Charles,  completely  overcame  his 
parental  heart.  He  is  said  to  have  shed  tears,  and  de- 
clared that  his  views  were  entirely  changed  as  to  the 
goodness  of  the  king. 

This  is  made  the  ground  of  another  charge  of  hy- 
pocrisy against  him.  His  tears,  and  expressions  of 
sympathy,  are  both  declared  to  have  been  feigned,  and 
intended  only  for  eifect.  It  is  curious  to  observe  the 
folly  and  contradictions  into  which  men  run,  when 
their  judgments  are  led  astray  by  their  feelings.  If, 
with  the  boldness  and  daring  which  characterized  him, 
he  faces  down  the  king  and  government,  he  is  pro- 
rounced  a  haughty  and  unfeeling  tyrant,  governed  only 


1647.]  HIS     SLANDERERS.  175 

by  lawless  ambition.  If  he  throws  a  cushion  at  Lud- 
low's head,  while  discussing  matters  of  State ;  or  daubs 
Marten's  face  with  the  ink  he  had  used  in  signing  the 
death-warrant  of  Charles,  he  is  called  a  brute,  who  has 
not  even  the  refinement  to  conceal  his  brutahty.  To- 
day, a  rough,  unhewn  man,  who  cannot  make  a  reputable 
speech ;  to  morrow,  so  eloquent  and  overmastering  that 
he  convinces  even  his  enemies,  and  disarms  hatred 
itself;  now  a  coarse  buffoon,  and  presto,  the  most  fin- 
ished dissembler  and  dark-minded  knave  that  ever 
outwitted  friends  and  foes :  crying  over  the  meeting  of 
the  king  with  his  children,  for  effect,  when  but  few 
were  present  to  witness  it ;  yet  taking  pains  to  insult  his 
dead  body  before  the  whole  world,  as  if  on  purpose  to 
shock  its  sensibilities — he,  according  to  his  prejudiced 
biographers,  is  the  roughest  and  smoothest,  the  boldest 
and  trickiest,  the  most  childish  and  the  sternest  man 
that  ever  lived.  Assuming  all  shapes — possessed  of  all 
characters ;  a  Proteus,  a  chamelion — an  everything,  a 
nothing;  he  cannot  look,  without  intending  to  deceive; 
or  speak  a  word  on  religion  or  politics,  without  playing 
the  hypocrite.  Do  what  he  will — say  what  he  will,  it  is 
all  the  same.  His  motives  impugned — ^his  conduct 
assailed ;  every  good  act  denied,  or  explained  aw^ay  ;. 
and  every  slander  believed ;  no  man  ever  yet  suffered 
so  at  the  hand  of  history ;  and  yet,  colossus-like,  he  rises 
higher  and  higher,  with  each  succeeding  generation. 

The  truth  is,  Cromwell,  though  relentless  as  doom,  in 
purpose,  possessed  a  heart  overflowing  with  kindness 
to  Ills  friends,  and  especially  to  his  family.     His  private 


176  OLIVER     CnOMWELL. 

letters  prove  this  beyond  doubt  or  cavil:  and  all  the 
parent  was  moved  in  him,  when  he  saw  those  children 
clinging  to  the  neck  of  their  royal  father,  and  that 
father  forgetting  he  was  a  king  and  a  prisoner,  in  the 
joy  of  once  more  straining  to  his  breast  the  offspring  of 
his  happier  days. 

Hitherto,  he  had  seen  him  only  as  an  enemy  of 
liberty,  the  church,  and  the  people — read  his  char- 
acter in  the  haughty  face  that  frowned  on  parliament, 
when  he  came  to  seize  the  five  members ;  and  thought  of 
him  as  the  heartless  tyrant,  who  would  w^ade  through 
the  blood  of  his  subjects  to  a  despotic  throne.  This 
burst  of  tenderness  was  a  new  development;  and 
appealing,  as  it  did,  to  his  own  warm  heart,  and  shooting 
so  directly  and  suddenly  across  his  deep-rooted  prejudi- 
ces, and  long  cherished  hate,  produced  a  wonderful 
change  in  his  views,  and  a  strong  revulsion  of  feeling  in 
favor  of  the  unhappy  monarch.  Such  a  heart,  he 
thought,  could  not  be  irreclaimably  bad,  and  there  must 
still  be  foothold  for  reason  and  appeal. 

This,  doubtless,  made  him  more  open  and  resolute  in 
his  attempts  to  settle  the  distracted  government  on  a 
fair  and  permanent  basis,  by  placing  Charles  on  the 
throne,  while  he  at  the  same  time  so  bound  him  by 
restrictions,  and  checked  him  by  powers  created  for 
purpose,  that  he  could  not  play  the  despot. 

Historians  cannot  agree  in  the  motives  which  actu- 
ated Cromw^ell  in  the  negotiations  which  followed. 
Some  say  he  never  was  serious  in  his  protestations^ 
but  played  the  hypocrite  throughout :  others,  who  can- 


1(347.]    REASONS  FOR  HIS  CONDUCT.        17? 

not  see  what  he  was  to  gain  in  this»  assert  that  he  was 
cautiously  feehng  his  way ;  and  intent  only  on  his  own 
aggrandizement,  was  resolved  to  be  governed  entirely 
by  circumstances.  Others  still,  not  content  with 
making  him  a  hypocrite,  a  liar,  and  an  ambitious  man, 
would  fain  have  us  believe  him  a  Judas,  who  could  be 
bought  and  sold  for  "  thirty  pieces  of  silver ;"  and  de- 
clare that  he  was  desirous  simply  to  make  a  good  bar- 
gain for  himself  and  personal  friends;  and  hence, 
demanded  of  the  king,  as  a  reward  for  placing  him  on 
the  throne,  the  title  of  Earl  of  Essex,  the  order  of  the 
garter,  and  the  appointment  of  commander-in-chief  of 
the  army.  This  man,  who  had  unlimited  control  over 
the  best-disciplined,  and  most  terrible  army,  that 
ever  trod  a  battle-field — with  power  to  make  and 
unmake  parliaments ;  nay,  held  the  throne  in  his  firm 
grasp — incurred  the  hate  and  suspicion  of  that  very 
army,  and  seriously  endangered  his  own  position,  to 
obtain  a  command  which  he  could  have  without  the 
king,  and  a  title  he  cared  not  a  farthing  for.  The  most 
extraordinary  and  senseless  reasons  for  his  conduct  are 
preferred  to  the  plain  and  simple  one,  that  he  w^as  en- 
deavoring to  secure  both  the  peace  and  liberty  of  the 
CGrnmonwealth  at  ivhatever  sacrifice  to  himself. 

After  the  breaking  up  of  parliament,  the  army  re- 
turned to  Putney,  and  the  king  was  placed  in  Hampton 
Court,  near  by.  During  the  months  of  August  and 
September,  the  utmost  excitement  prevailed  both  in  the 
parliament  and  the  army.  How  should  the  settlement 
of  the  nation  be  effected?  was  the  great  question  ;  and 
8* 


l78  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Cromwell,  as  stated  above,  seemed  to  think  it  could  be 
best  done  by  fettering  the  king's  powers,  so  that  he  could 
not  endanger  the  liberty  of  the  realm ;  and  then  give 
him  to  the  people  as  their  legitimate  sovereign.  To 
this  end,  he  became  intimate  in  the  king's  family.  He 
presented  his  wife,  and  Mrs.  Ireton,  (his  daughter 
Bridget  married  in  January,  this  year,)  and  Mrs.  Whalley, 
his  cousin,  at  court,  w^hom  the  king  received  with  great 
honors.  This  sudden  change  in  Cromwell's  conduct, 
could  not  but  be  observed  and  commented  upon.  He, 
who,  but  a  few  months  since  was  seeking  the  life  of 
Charles  on  the  battle-field,  was  now  seen  walking  in 
friendly  intercourse  wdth  him  in  the  park.  Surprise 
first,  and  suspicion  afterwards,  were  openly  expressed  in 
the  city,  and  in  the  army.  Ardent  republicans,  religious 
enthusiasts,  and  radicals  of  all  sorts,  were  shocked  and 
disgusted  at  this  apparently  familiar  footing  of  their  leader 
with  the  tyrant.  Lilburn,  w^ho  had  left  his  regiment, 
because  he  could  not  learn  to  be  obedient ;  and  w^as 
now^  prisoner  in  the  tow^er,  sent  there  by  the  lords,  for 
his  seditious  writings ;  at  first  warned  Cromw^ell  as  a 
friend,  afterwards  threatened,  and  finally  denounced 
him,  to  the  agitators. 

The  army,  as  observed,  w^as  a  sort  of  republican 
government  by  itself,  and  boldly  discussed  all  questions 
of  State,  and  especially  the  conduct  of  their  leader. 
At  length,  suspecting  their  court  of  agitators  (or, 
rather,  adjutators),  to  be  more  faithful  to  the  officers 
than  to  themselves,  the  soldiers  chose  new  ones  to  watch 


1647.]  HIS    DANGER.  179 

the  latter ;  and  anarchy  was  gradually  creeping  into  all 
departments. 

The  rationalists  who  submitted  to  no  authority  but 
that  of  reason ;  the  levellers  who  aimed  at  an  entire 
subversion  of  royalty,  nobility,  and  all  government  but 
that  based  on  equal  rights  to  every  citizen,  were 
loud  in  their  denunciations  of  Cromwell  and  Ireton. 
The  former  began  to  feel  the  peril  of  his  position,  and 
urged  vehemently  on  the  king  the  conditions  he  pro- 
posed ;  conditions,  he  said,  so  much  preferable  to  those 
which  the  parHament  offered.  Misled  by  Ashburnham, 
Charles  refused,  although  he  still  made  large  promises 
to  Cromv\reil;  and  believing  that  he  was  now  indis- 
pensable to  one  or  the  other  party,  said  to  his  friends : 
"  I  can  turn  the  scale  which  way  I  please ;  and  that 
party  must  sink  which  I  abandon."  "  Sire,"  replied 
Berkley,  "  a  cause  so  near  lost  was  never  recovered  on 
easier  terms."  Cromwell,  finding  that  his  conduct  was 
fast  losing  him  the  confidence  of  the  army,  was  less 
frequent  in  his  interviews  with  Charles :  but  that  his 
conduct  might  not  awaken  suspicion  of  his  integrity, 
he  frankly  told  the  reason ;  adding :  "  If  I  am  an  honest 
man,  I  have  done  enough  to  convince  his  majesty  of 
the  sincerity  of  my  intentions ;  if  not,  nothing  will 
suffice." 

But  the  aspect  of  things  in  the  army  grew,  every  day, 
more  threatening.  Never  was  Cromwell  in  such  dan- 
ger before.  The  affection  which  the  soldiers  bore 
him  nothing  but  his  own  desertion  could  extinguish; 
and   this  thev   now   more  than  mistrusted.     Societies 


180  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

were  formed  among  them,  in  which  his  conduct  was 
openly  discussed.  Still  bent  on  saving  the  kingdom, 
he  braved  all,  determined  to  keep  his  promise  with 
the  king,  until  released  by  the  treachery  of  the  latter. 
But  he  was  treading  on  the  verge  of  a  volcano ;  and  it 
behooved  him  to  beware  of  his  steps.  True,  his  emissa- 
ries and  spies  were  everywhere;  but  nothing  could  resist 
the  tide  of  feeling  that  was  setting  so  strongly  against 
him. 

To  us,  Cromwell,  amid  the  perils  which  now  sur- 
rounded him,  instead  of  being  a  heartless  dissembler, 
seems  a  true  patriot,  rising  in  moral  grandeur  as  his  dan- 
ger increases.  Sustained  by  his  inflexible,  fearless,  and 
gifted  son-in-law  Ireton,  he  determined  to  hazard  every- 
thing personal  to  secure  that  peace  v/hich,  if  the  present 
attempt  failed  to  obtain,  he  knew  not  where  to  look  for. 

Instead  of  aiming  at  his  own  elevation — (to  secure 
which  he  had  only  to  yield  to  the  wishes  of  the  army) — 
he  appears  to  us  nobly  breasting  the  tide  of  events  that 
is  bearing  him  on  to  certain  power;  and  struggling 
against  his  fate.  The  army  was  all-powerful  and  radi- 
cal enough,  to  meet  the  wishes  of  the  most  daring  usur- 
per ;  yet,  instead  of  wielding  it  for  his  own  ambition,  he 
risked  his  influence  over  it  for  the  common  welfare,  and 
to  end  a  strife  which  constantly  assumed  a  more  alarming 
character.  So  sacred  did  he  esteem  his  promise  given 
to  the  king,  that  he  adhered  to  him,  even  when  open 
mutiny  had  broken  out  in  the  troops.  On  the  9th  of 
October,  five  regiments  of  horse,  through  their  adju- 
tators,   drew   up   a   paper,  called   "The   Case   of   the 


1647.]  THE    king's   treachery.  181 

Army ;"  which,  nine  days  after,  was  presented  to  Fair- 
fax. On  the  first  of  November,  another  paper  appeared, 
sent  out  by  sixteen  regiments ;  in  which  their  officers 
were  declared  traitors  to  the  cause  of  the  people,  and 
the  latter  called  upon  to  rise  and  turn  the  parliament 
out  of  doors :  in  short,  it  was  demanded  that  England 
should  at  once  become  a  republic,  with  the  supreme 
power  vested  in  a  House  of  Commons  chosen  by  the 
suffrages  of  the  whole  nation.  These  papers  were  sup- 
pressed by  order  of  parliament;  but  the  disaffection 
continued  to  spread. 

DISCOVERY    OF    THE    KINg's    TREACHERY. 

In  this  crisis  of  Cromwell's  fate.  Providence  seems  to 
have  interposed  for  his  rescue ;  and  liberating  him  from 
his  obligations  to  the  king,  compelled  him  to  turn, 
once  more,  to  the  army.  Charles,  w^ho  had  all  the  while 
been  playing  a  double  game  with  him,  (a  duplicity 
scarce  ever  commented  upon,)  in  an  evil  hour  to  him- 
self, confessed  his  treachery,  in  a  private  letter  to  his 
wife.  One  of  Oliver's  spies,  whom  he  kept  near  the 
royal  person ;  sent  him  word  one  day,  that  a  man  would 
reach  the  Blue  Boar,  in  Holborn,  that  night,  on  his  way 
to  Dover,  with  a  letter  disclosins;  the  monarch's  secret 
designs.  The  man  would  come  there,  with  a  saddle  on 
his  head,  in  the  hning  of  w^hich  the  letter  was  sewed  up. 
Cromwell  and  Ireton  immediately  disguised  themselves 
as  common  soldiers,  and  proceeded  to  the  tavern  ;  where, 
calling  for  some  beer,  they  sat  down,  while  a  trusty 


182  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

servant  kept  ^Vatch  at  the  door.  At  the  hour  designated, 
the  man  appeared,  with  the  saddle  on  his  head.  Sudden- 
ly drawing  their  swords,  they  rushed  upon  him,  and  seiz- 
ing the  saddle,  ripped  it  open.  Finding  the  letter,  they 
carefully  closed  up  the  saddle  again  ;  and  telling  the 
man,  who  w^as  ignorant  of  the  trust  committed  to  him, 
that  he  was  an  honest  fellow,  let  him  go. 

These  two  Puritan  leaders,  Cromwell  and  Ireton,  in 
the  garb  of  private  soldiers,  at  an  humble  inn,  bending 
together  over  that  letter  of  the  king,  must  have  pre- 
sented a  picture  worthy  the  study  of  an  artist.  How 
those  massive  features  blazed  up,  as,  perusing  the  evi- 
dence of  his  monarch's  insincerity  in  his  own  confes- 
sions— declaring  that  he  preferred  to  treat  wdth  the  Scot- 
tish Presbyterians,  rather  than  the  army,  but,  should  lean 
to  whichever  side  appeared  the  strongest ;  he  at  length, 
came  to  the  following  sentence — "  For  the  rest,  I  alone 
understand  my  position  :  be  entirely  easy  as  to  the  con- 
cessions I  may  grant  them.  When  the  time  comes  I  shall 
know  how  to  deal  with  the  rogues ;  and,  instead  of  a 
silken  garter,  I  will  fit  them  with  a  hempen  halter^* 
One  may  well  imagine  the  fixed,  unalterable  look,  with 
which  Oliver  gazed  on  his  fearless  son-in-law,  as  he 
finished  reading,  and  the  terrible  resolution  which 
sprung  to  the  lips  of  the  latter.  They  were  betrayed 
— shamefully  betrayed  by  the  monarch  they  were  risk- 
ing all  to  reinstate  in  power. 

But  painful  as  the  discovery  was,  it  at  once  relieved 
Cromwell  from  his  state  of  extreme  perplexity.     Turn- 

^  Vide  British  Statesmen,  page  467,  Guizot  and  others. 


1647.]  THE    king's    flight.  183 

ing,  at  once,  from  the  trustless  monarch,  and  from  all 
hopes  of  saving  the  distracted  kingdom  through  him, 
he  boldly  threw  himself  into  the  wild  current  he  had 
hitherto  vainly  endeavored  to  stem.  On  his  good  sword, 
and  the  army  not  yet  irretrievably  lost  to  him,  he  must 
now  rely ;  and  assume  the  power  which  his  enemies  forc- 
ed upon  him.  An  immediate  change  came  over  the 
king's  prospects — dark  hints  reached  him  of  intended 
assassination,  and  warnings  to  flee  his  captors. 

In  the  meantime,  Cromwell  roused  himself  to  meet 
the  perils  which  environed  him.  A  council  had  been 
called  in  the  army,  to  discuss  whether  it  were  best 
to  dispense  with  monarchy  altogether.  Being  adjourn- 
ed to  the  next  week,  November  6th,  he  appeared  in 
its  midst;  and  abruptly  cutting  short  all  debate,  de- 
clared that  every  officer  should  immediately  return  to 
the  head  of  his  regiment ;  and  instead  of  a  general 
meeting,  which  had  been  agreed  on,  there  should  be 
three  special  meetings  in  the  chief  divisions  of  the 
army.  A  council  was  to  sit  in  the  interval,  and  the 
management  of  affairs  be  entrusted  entirely  to  Fairfax 
and  parliament. 

In  the  meantime,  Charles,  filled  with  alarm  at  the 
new  aspect  matters  had  assumed  about  him,  and  the 
secret  warnings  he  received,  resolved  to  flee.  He  had 
sent  a  woman,  a  Mrs.  Whore  wood,  with  £500,  to  con- 
sult a  celebrated  astrologer  of  London,  respecting  the 
course  he  should  adopt.  But  his  fears  outran  his  super- 
stitious belief;  and,  without  waiting  the  answer  of  the 
astrologer,  he,  on  the  night  of  the  11  th  of  November, 


184  O  L  I  /  i:  R     C  K  C-  M  W  E  L  L  . 

departed  with  a  single  valet-de-chambre.  Stealing 
down  a  back  staircase,  he  entered  the  park,  bordered  by 
an  extensive  forest,  where  Ashburnham  and  Berkley 
were  waiting  for  him  with  fleet  horses.  Hastily  nnount- 
ing,  the  four  fugitives  plunged  into  the  woods,  and  sped 
off,  they  scarce  knew  whither.  Not  a  star  was  visi- 
ble— dark  and  angry  clouds  swept  the  heavens — the 
rain  fell  in  torrents  :  and  drenched  and  w^eary,  Charles 
and  his  companions  wandered  through  the  mazes  of  the 
forest,  bewildered  and  lost.  At  day-breali,  however, 
^hey  regained  the  road ;  and  reaching  Sutton,  took 
fresh  horses,  and  continued  their  flight  towards  South- 
ampton. After  much  hesitation  respecting  the  course 
they  should  pursue,  they,  at  length,  resolved  to  take 
refuge  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  over  which  Robert  Ham- 
mond, a  colonel  in  the  infantry,  presided  as  governor. 
But,  no  sooner  was  Charles  within  the  castle  gates, 
than  his  fears  returned ;  and,  exclaiming  to  Ashburn- 
ham, "  Oh  !  John,  John,  thou  hast  undone  me  !"  walked 
up  and  down  his  apartment  in  uncontrollable  anguish. 
It  was  too  late,  however,  to  retrace  his  steps.  x\t 
length,  he  became  more  composed,  and  the  next 
morning  seemed  quite  satisfied  with  the  asylum  he  had 
chosen. 

Cromwell  was  the  first  to  know  of  his  flight,  and  im- 
mediately advised  parliament  of  it.  Whether  he  was 
privy  to  it  or  not,  the  stern  Puritan,  W^haliey,  who  was 
the  king's  jailor,  has  not  informed  us.  Nor  is  it  known 
whether  the  anonymous  letters  which  so  worked  upon 
his  fears,  came  from  his  friends,  or  were  sent   at  the 


1647.]  QUELLS     THE     MUTINY.  185 

instigation  of  Oliver,  to  frighten  him  into  an  escape. 
There  may  have  been  many  enthusiastic  repubhcans, 
v.^ho,  clinging  to  their  leader  in  unbroken  confidence  and 
ove,  and  believing  him,  under  a  mistaken  sense  of  duty, 
to  be  endangering  the  liberty  and  safety  of  the  kingdom, 
oy  his  adherence  to  the  faithless  monarch  ;  endeavored, 
in  this  way,  to  separate  them.  The  most  probable  sup- 
position, however,  is  that  Cromwell,  the  moment  he 
discovered  the  insincerity  of  the  king,  and  at  the  same 
time  saw  the  imminent  peril  resulting  from  their  con- 
nexion, resolved  to  get  rid  of  him.  Personal  fear,  he 
knew,  would  force  him  to  flee  ;  and  believing  that  France 
would  be  chosen  as  the  most  secure  retreat,  he  expected 
to  release  himself  of  so  troublesome  a  burden,  and  at 
the  same  time  prevent  his  falling  into  the  hands  of 
parliament. 

Hammond  immediately  reported  the  arrival  of  Charles 
to  parliament  and  the  army. 

CROMWELL    aUELLS    THE    MUTINY. 

Having  thus  disposed  of  his  treacherous  sovereign, 
Cromwell  turned  to  the  subjugation  of  his  mutinous 
army.  Acting  with  that  decision  which  so  often  dis- 
comfitted  his  enemies,  he  proceeded  to  Ware,  in 
Hertfordshire,  where  the  first  of  the  three  appointed 
meetings,  w^as  to  take  place.  Only  seven  regiments, 
and  those  which  had  seemed  least  mutinous,  had  been 
summoned  to  it ;  but  nine  were  there,  drawn  up  on  the 
common.     Two,  one  of  horse,  and  one  of  foot — the 


186  O  L  1  V  E  R     C  K  O  M  W  E  L  L  , 

most  tumultuous  in  the  whole  army — had  come  of  their 
own  accord,  to  resist  the  authority  of  their  leaders. 
The  latter  regiment  had  expelled  all  its  officers,  above 
the  rank  of  lieutenant,  except  one  captain,  because  they 
were  too  favorable  to  the  generals.  Every  soldier 
wore  a  paper,  called  "  The  Agreement  of  the  People,"  in 
his  hat,  on  w^hich  was  inscribed,  "  Liberty  to  England" 
— "  Soldier's  Rights."  As  they  thus  stood  in  disorderly 
array,  on  the  open  field ;  Rainsborough,  who  fought  so 
gallantly  at  Bristol,  Ewer,  Scott,  and  John  Lilburn 
fresh  from  the  Tower,  were  seen  galloping  from  com- 
pany to  company,  in  the  highest  excitement,  brandish- 
ing their  swords,  and  exhortino;  the  soldiers  to  stand  firm 
for  their  liberty  and  that  of  their  country.  They  were 
answered  by  shouts  that  ever  and  anon  rocked  the 
plain.  In  the  midst  of  this  strange  scene,  Fairfax  and 
Cromwell,  surrounded  by  their  officers,  slovvly  advanc- 
ed on  the  field.  They  first  approached  the  seven  less 
refractory  regiments,  and  read  to  them  a  calm  remon- 
strance against  their  unlawful  proceedings.  They 
pointed  out  the  danger  to  which  they  subjected  both 
themselves  and  their  country — reminded  them  of 
the  affection  their  generals  had  hitherto  manifested; 
and  promising  to  redress  all  their  grievances,  besought 
them  to  return  to  their  duty.  When  the  officers  had 
finished  reading  the  paper,  the  soldiers  sent  up  a  loud 
shout  of  joy,  and  promised  to  return  immediately  to 
their  obedience.  Cromwell  and  Fairfax  then  rode 
towards  the  two  regiments  of  open  mutineers.  One, 
that  of  Harrison,  followed   the  example  of  the  other 


1647.]  aUELLS     THE     MUTINY.  187 

seven,  but  Lilburn's  was  only  the  more  excited  and 
frantic.  The  soldiers  interrupted  Fairfax  in  the  midst 
of  his  address,  with  shouts  of  "  No  king — no  coalition — 
equal  rights  !"  In  a  moment  Cromwell's  passions  were 
in  a  blaze,  and  advancing,  with  a  long,  rapid  stride,  close 
to  the  ranks,  he  exclaimed  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  "  Take 
that  paper  from  your  hats!''  They  refusing  to  obey, 
he  dashed  into  their  midst,  and  seizing  the  chief  muti- 
neer by  the  collar,  dragged  him  forth  in  presence  of  all, 
and  at  the  same  time  ordered  his  officers  to  arrest  four- 
teen of  the  other  ringleaders.  Many  a  hand  sought  the 
hilt  of  its  sword  and  fierce  men  grasped  their  fire-locks. 
But  Lilburn,  and  Rainsborough,  and  the  other  officers, 
knew  too  well  the  man  with  whom  they  had  to  do,  to 
attempt  an  interference.  They  had  too  often  seen,  on 
the  battle-field,  the  terrible  expression  which  now  man- 
tled his  features,  to  doubt  its  meaning ;  and  they  knew 
it  would  be  safer  to  meet  the  roused  lion,  than  him  in 
that  mood.  They  could  rush  all  steadily  upon  a  stand  of 
level  pikes,  but  not  on  the  breast  of  that  single  man,  in 
that  moment  of  wrath  and  fierce  determination. 

Instantly  turning  to  Fairfax,  Cromwell  requested  that 
the  officers  should  be  assembled;  and  a  drum-head 
court-martial  was  ordered  on  the  spot — and  there,  right 
in  front  of  the  rebellious  regiment,  those  ringleaders 
w-ere  tried,  and  three  condemned.  One,  as  an  example, 
was  sentenced  to  be  shot,  and  lots  were  cast  to  deter- 
mine which  it  should  be.  The  lot  fell  on  a  furious 
soldier  named  Arnell.  A  file  of  men  were  immediately 
called   out   to    execute   the    sentence.      At    the   word 


188  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

*'Fire  /"  the  poor  wretch  fell,  pierced  with  balls ;  and  his 
companions,  who,  an  hour  before,  had  heard  his  shout 
of  defiance  ring  the  loudest,  looked  on  aghast,  and 
quailed  before  their  resolute  leader. 

This  quelled  the  mutiny  for  the  time,  and  a  vote  of 
thanks  was  tendered  Cromwell  by  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. But  this  high-handed  summary  act,  w^hich 
completely  stunned  the  army,  soon  aroused  anger  in 
the  fanatisal  friends  of  the  condemned,  who  were  still 
in  prison.  They  were  called  by  some  the  "  chosen  of 
the  Lord ;"  and  one  preacher  from  the  country  came  to 
London  on  purpose  to  declare  that  God  had  forsaken 
the  generals,  for  daring  to  imprison  his  saints. 

The  soldiers  were  afraid  to  meet  again  the  torrent  of 
their  leader's  wrath;  but  many  officers  expostulated  with 
him,  declaring  that  they  would  not  have  a  king,  but 
were  bent  on  a  republic,  and  if  necessary,  would  divide 
the  army  for  that  purpose.  He  answered  them  evasive- 
ly, w^ell  aw^are  that  though  he  had  quelled  the  anarchy 
that  threatened  to  disrupt  the  army,  and  re-established 
his  supremacy  there ;  careful  management  was  neces- 
sary to  keep  what  he  had  gained. 

At  length,  a  great  meeting  was  called  at  head-quarters. 
It  met  December  22d,  and  ten  hours  were  spent  in 
prayer  and  mutual  confessions.  The  mutinous  officers 
confessed  their  wrong — the  soldiers  expressed  repent- 
ance for  their  deeds;  and  Cromwell,  who  had  adopted  a 
tone  of  great  conciliation,  since  the  suppression  of  the 
mutiny,  was  restored  to  full  confidence.  The  prisoners 
were  set  at  liberty — the  degraded  officers  restored  to 


1647.]     KING     TREATS     WITH     THE     SCOTS.  189 

their  rank; — and  with  solemn  vows  to  God  to  act  in  fu- 
ture for  the  good  of  their  country,  that  strangely  enthu- 
siastic and  patriotic  multitude  dispersed. 

At  the  same  time,  messengers  arrived  from  the  king, 
congratulating  the  generals  on  their  victory,  and  re- 
minding them  of  their  promise  to  advance  his  interest. 
The  former,  how^ever,  did  not  stop  long  to  negotiate — 
the  scorn  and  indignation  that  gathered  on  the  brows  of 
Cromwell  and  Ireton,  showed  them  that  their  master 
had  nothing  to  expect  in  that  quarter. 

Eight  days  previous  to  this  event,  the  House  of  Com- 
mons had  voted  that  four  propositions  should  be  laid 
before  the  king,  on  the  acceptance  of  which  he  might 
treat  personally  with  parliament.  First,  he  was  to  give 
the  control  of  all  the  military  and  naval  force  to  parlia- 
ment for  twenty  years,  and  longer,  if  circumstances 
required.  Second,  to  revoke  all  the  proclamations  he 
had  made  against  it,  in  which  its  acts  were  declared 
illegal.  Third ;  annul  the  peerages  he  had  created  since 
the  commencement  of  the  war  ;  and  lastly,  allow  parlia- 
ment to  control  its  own  sittings. 

The  Scotch  commissioners  no  sooner  heard  of  this 
movement,  than  ihey  sent  messengers  to  Charles,  urging 
him  not  to  accept  the  terms ;  as  they  would  offer  far 
better.  They  and  the  commissioners  from  parhament, 
reached  the  Isle  of  Wight  nearly  at  the  same  time ;  and 
began  to  push  their  respective  claims.  In  two  days, 
Charles  had  concluded  a  treaty  with  the  Scotch ;  the 
chief  stipulations  in  which  were,  that  he  should  estab- 
lish  the   Presbyterian   Church   in   England    for   three 


190  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

years,  and  then  leave  the  final  settlement  of  its  gov- 
ernment to  parliament  and  the  Assembly  of  Divines. 
In  consideration  of  these  concessions,  a  Scotch  army 
was  to  be  raised,  in  conjunction  with  one  in  Ireland, 
and  place  him  on  the  throne.  At  the  first  opportunity, 
he  was  to  escape  from  the  island,  and  hasten  to  Scotland 
to  wait  the  decisive  moment. 

When  the  baffled  commissioners  of  parliament  return- 
ed, and  made  their  report,  the  deepest  indignation  pre- 
vailed. A  member,  Thomas  Wroth  arose  and  said : 
"  Mr.  Speaker,  Bedlam  was  appointed  for  madmen,  and 
Tophet  for  kings  ;  but  our  kings  have,  of  late  carried 
themselves  as  if  they  were  fit  for  no  place  but  Bedlam :  I 
propose  we  lay  the  king  by,  and  settle  the  kingdom  with- 
out him.  I  care  not  what  form  of  government  you  set 
up ;  so  it  be  not  by  kings  or  devils."  This  bold  speech 
was  followed  by  one  equally  so  from  Ireton.  He  declar- 
ed, that  allegiance  of  the  people  could  be  procured  only 
on  the  promise  of  protection ;  and  as  the  king  had  denied 
the  latter,  they  must  refuse  the  former. 

The  revolution  had  progressed :  men  had  passed 
from  the  discussion  of  great  constitutional  questions  to 
simple  assertions  of  their  own  rights  as  men.  Kingship 
could  now  be  treated  contemptuously  without  exciting 
horror.  The  Presbyterians  were  alarmed;  and  en- 
deavored to  arrest  these  dangerous  feelings.  The  blow 
now  i)lanned  struck  at  the  very  root  of  English  govern- 
ment :  and  if  it  succeeded,  everything  would  be  adrift, 
and  the  strongest  win.  They,  therefore,  strenuously 
opposed  the  motion  neither  to  send  or  receive  any  more 


1648.]  THE     KING     LAID     ASIDE.  191 

messages  from  the  king,  and  settle  the  government  with- 
out him. 

The  debate  grew  warm,  when  Cromwell  arose  and 
said  it  was  "high  time  to  answer  the  public  expectation— 
that  they  icere  able  and  resolved  to  govern  and  defend 
the  kingdom,  by  their  own  power,  and  teach  the  people 
they  had  nothing  to  hope  from  a  man  whose  heart  God 
had  hardened  in  obstinacy.  Do  not,"  he  continued, 
"  let  the  army  think  themselves  betrayed  to  the  rage  and 
malice  of  an  irreconcilable  enemy,  whom  they  have 
subdued  for  your  sake;  and  from  whom  they  would 
receive,  as  a  reward,  revenge  and  punishment.  Do  not 
drive  them  to  despair ;  lest  they  seek  safety  by  other 
means  than  adhering  to  you,  who  will  not  stick  to 
yourselves.  Hovv'  destructive  such  a  resolution  in 
them  will  be  to  you  all,  "{laying  his  hand  on  his  sword- 
hilt)  "  /  tremble  to  think ;  and  leave  you  to  judge." 
The  language  and  the  movement  were  both  significant ; 
and  no  farther  debate  was  attempted.  The  motion  to 
proceed  to  the  settlement  of  the  kingdom  without  the 
king,  was  carried  by  a  large  majority,  and  sent  to  the 
upper  House.  Here,  too,  after  a  short  struggle,  it  pass- 
ed ;  and  parliament  stood  before  the  world  as  the  sove- 
reign power  of  England. 

This  summary  disposition  of  the  throne  and  royal  pre- 
rogative, filled  the  adherents  of  the  king  with  consterna- 
tion and  rage ;  and  countless  plots  were  laid  to  excite  a 
general  insurrection.  Even  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  the 
drum  was  beat,  and  the  citizens  called  to  arms,  to  defend 
their  sovereign.     All  over  the  country — in   Scotland, 


192  OLXVER     CROMWELL. 

Ireland  and  Wales,  there  were  symptoms  of  a  general 
rising  in  his  favor.  The  mask  ^vas  off,  and  all  saw 
that  the  complete  overthrow  of  royalty  w^as  resolved 
upon.  In  the  midst  of  the  gathering  storm,  Cromwell 
stood  calm  and  self-collected,  though  not  without  deep 
anxiety.  The  power  he  had  so  long  wielded  secretly 
must  now  be  exerted  openly.  Still  cautious,  however, 
and  waiting  for  the  hour  to  strike,  he  watched,  with  a 
vigilance  nothing  could  elude,  the  disturbed  elements 
about  him.  Measures  were  set  on  foot  to  thwart  the 
enemies  of  parliament,  and  acts  passed,  forbidding  all 
who  had  fought  for  the  king  to  reside  within  twenty 
miles  of  London.  Suspected  justices  of  the  peace  were 
removed,  and  the  presses  of  the  "malignants"  stopped. 
The  army  once  more  marched  through  London ;  and 
men  everywhere  saw  that  the  tremendous  power  which 
had  gathered  under  the  hand  of  Cromwell,  was  to  be 
exerted  to  the  uttermost. 

Such  scenes  ushered  in  the  memorable  year  of  1648. 
While  Oliver  thus  stood  and  felt  the  heaving  of  the 
earthquake  beneath  him,  he  resolved  to  call  together  the 
religious  leaders  of  the  Presbyterians  and  Independents, 
to  see  if  he  could  effect  a  reconciliation.  They  met  at 
his  house,  but  divided  by  religious  dogmas,  could  come 
to  no  agreement.  He  then  summoned  to  him  the  politi- 
cal leaders,  such  as  Vane,  Haselrig,  Hutchinson,  Lud- 
low, and  others  more  moderate.  He  told  them,  that  as 
government  now  rested  on  their  shoulders,  it  became 
them  to  decide  what  form  should  be  adopted.  Some  de- 
clared for  a  republic — some  for  a  mixed  monarchy ;  and 


1648.J  A     MOB    IN     LONDON.  193 

at  length  Ludlow  asked  Cromwell  what  his  views  were. 
The  latter  evaded  a  direct  answer ;  but  being  hard  press- 
ed seized  a  cushion,  and  flinging  it  at  Ludlow's  head,  hur- 
ried out  of  the  room.  As  he  left,  Ludlow  hurled  it  back ; 
which,  says  the  latter,  "made  him  hasten  down  stairs 
faster  than  he  desired."  Such  practical  jesting  in  the 
midst  of  deliberations  on  no  less  a  question  than  the  sal- 
vation of  a  kingdom,  seems  strangely  at  war  with  Crom- 
well's character.  But  they  err  greviously,  who  suppose 
it  was  a  mere  ebulition  of  humor — the  effervescence  of 
a  careless  indifferent  state  of  mind.  It  was  either  the  im- 
pulsive movement  of  a  spirit  struggling  to  throw  off  the 
burden  that  weighed  it  down ;  or,  what  is  more  probable, 
a  summary  way  of  breaking  up  a  council  who  were  urg- 
ing him  too  far,  and  whose  continued  deliberations  could 
be  of  no  avail.  He  had  fathomed  their  hearts  and  ascer- 
tained their  wishes,  and  now  he  could  mature  his  own 
plans  with  more  precision. 

In  the  meantime,  as  spring  advanced,  incipient  in- 
surrections were  announced  in  the  North,  and  even  in 
counties  bordering  on  London.  At  length,  in  the  begin- 
ning of  April,  a  mob  of  the  city  came  in  collision  with 
the  militia,  and  a  sharp  conflict  ensued.  The  former, 
reinforced  by  the  w^atermen  and  others,  drove  the  mili- 
tary before  them — took  two  of  the  gates  of  the  city,  and 
seizing  a  magazine  of  arms,  passed  through  the  streets, 
shouting  "  God  and  King  Charles !"  A  council  of  war 
was  called,  and  it  was  proposed  that  the  two  regiments 
quartered  in  London  should  attack  the  mob.  The  ma- 
jority voted  against  the  measure,  on  the  ground  that  the 
9 


194  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

force  was  insufficient.  But  Cromwell,  with  his  usual 
promptness  and  daring,  declared  that  the  troops  should 
immediately  be  ordered  out;  and — Fairfax  coinciding 
with  him — in  a  few  minutes  the  tramp  of  the  advancing 
squadrons  was  heard.  In  two  hours  the  emeute  was 
over,  and  peace  restored.  But  the  flames  were  only 
smothered,  not  extinguished. 

While  these  things  were  passing  at  home,  Scotland, 
in  order  to  carry  out  its  plan  for  the  reinstatement  of 
Charles  on  the  throne,  was  endeavoring  to  raise  an  army 
of  forty  thousand  men.  Ireland,  too,  began  to  move ;  and 
the  royalists  in  England  taking  courage,  a  formidable 
resistance  seemed  about  to  be  organized. 

In  the  midst  of  these  alarming  rumors  without,  the 
common-council  of  London  hearing  that  the  army  had 
formed  a  plan,  the  moment  the  kingdom  was  invaded, 
to  march  into  the  city  and  make  extraordinary  levies  of 
men  and  money ;  petitioned  parliament  that  it  should  be 
withdrawn  still  farther  from  the  walls — which  was 
granted. 

These  disorders  and  dangers  frightened  the  more 
timid  and  the  more  conservative  ;  and  leaving  the  Inde- 
pendents, they  went  over  to  the  Presbyterians,  so  that 
the  latter  had  the  balance  of  power  again  in  their  hands. 
A  motion  was  made  and  carried,  that  the  form  of  gov- 
ernment should  not  be  altered,  and  that  the  proposals 
made  to  the  king  might  be  the  basis  on  which  to  settle 
the  affairs  of  the  nation.  Cromwell,  who  had  in  vain 
endeavored  to  arrest  this  movement,  turned  once  more 
to  his  army ;  and  calling  a  council  of  war,  proposed  to 


1648.]  HIS     SICKNESS.  1&5 

march  on  the  parliament  and  overthrow  it  at  the  pike's 
point.  Failing  to  animate  his  officers  with  his  bold 
spirit,  he  resolved  to  leave  the  scene  of  political  in- 
trigue, and  with  his  army,  win  in  the  field,  by  his  vic- 
tories, that  strength  he  was  losing  in  the  State. 

But  before  we  enter  upon  the  stirring  history  of  the 
second  civil  war,  we  would  mention  two  or  three  events 
which  occurred  in  the  midst  of  the  political  excitement 
that  ushered  in  the  campaign  of  1648. 

In  January,  we  find  Cromwell  negociated  a  marriage 
contract  for  his  son  Richard,  with  the  daughter  of 
Richard,  Mayor  of  Hursley,  Hants,  near  Winchester: 
which,  after  much  delay,  was  finally  brought  to  a  satis- 
factory termination.  In  March,  the  House  of  Com- 
mons took  up  the  grant  which  had  been  made  to  him 
of  the  lands  of  the  Marquis  of  Winchester  and  Wor- 
cester. It  seems  the  act  had  never  been  carried  out — 
the  Winchester  estate  not  being  available : — and  now  his 
friends  renewed  the  subject,  and  obtained  a  settlement 
of  £l,680  per  annum  on  him  and  his  heirs,  from  the 
estate  of  the  Earl  of  Worcester. 

While  this  w^as  under  discussion,  Cromwell  lay  dan- 
gerously sick,  in  London.  This  may  account  for  the 
partial  success  gained  by  his  enemies  during  the 
spring.  While  the  master-spirit  dreaded  by  all  was 
crushed  under  disease,  they  could  rally  with  renewed 
courage  and  confidence ;  and  met  no  longer  at  every 
turn  by  that  vigilant  eye  and  resolute  arm,  work  with 
more  success.  Besides,  his  friends  might  assume  an 
attitude  less    bold,    as  he,   without  whom    they  could 


196  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

do  nothing,  was  struggling  for  life.  The  manner  in 
which  he  bore  this  sickness,  and  the  spirit  he  brought 
out  of  it,  may  be  ^gathered  from  his  letter  to  Fair- 
fax, on  his  recovery.  He  says — "  It  hath  pleased  God 
to  raise  me  out  of  a  dangerous  sickness ;  and  I  do 
most  willingly  acknowledge,  that  the  Lord  hath,  in 
this  visitation,  exercised  the  bowels  of  a  father  to- 
wards me.  I  received  in  myself  the  sentence  of  death, 
that  I  might  learn  to  trust  in  Him  that  raiseth  the 
dead,  and  have  no  confidence  in  the  flesh.  It  is  a 
blessed  thing  to  die  daily  ;  for  w^hat  is  there  in  this 
world  to  be  accounted  of?  The  best  men  according 
to  the  flesh,  and  things,  are  lighter  than  vanity.  I 
found  this  onl}^  good — to  love  the  Lord,  and  his  poor, 
despised  people;  to  do  for  them,  and  to  be  ready  to 
suffer  Vv'ith  them  ;  and  he  that  is  found  worthy  of  this, 
hath  obtained  a  great  favor  from  the  Lord  ;  and  he 
that  is  established  in  this,  shall  (being  confirmed  to 
Christ,  and  the  rest  of  the  Body)  participate  in  the 
glory  of  a  resurrection  which  will  answer  all."* 

A  fortnight  after  the  date  of  this  letter,  he  wrote 
to  the  Committee  of  the  two  Houses,  on  the  affairs 
of  Ireland — offering  one  thousand  pounds,  per  annum, 
for  five  years,  out  of  the  one  thousand  six  hundred 
and  eighty,  granted  him,  "  to  be  employed  for  the 
service  of  Ireland.*'  He  likewise  discharged  the  State 
from  the  debt  due  him,  for  his  services  under  the 
Earl  of  Manchester,  (amounting  to  £  1,500,)  to- 
gether with  the  salary,  as  Governor  of  Ely,  for  two 
*  Vide  Carlyle,  Letter  xxxiv. 


1648.]  ARMY     PRAYER     MEETING.  19^ 

years,  also  amounting  to  a  considerable  sum.  This 
offer  was  accepted.  Thus  far  Cromwell  seems  to  be 
seeking  neither  wealth  nor  power.  Giving  away  the 
former  as  fast  as  bestowed — and  pushed  on  towards  the 
latter,  by  circumstances  which  he  struggles  manfully  to 
resist;  he  exhibits  a  patriotism  that  maUce  has  in  vain 
endeavored  to  transform  into  ambition ;  and  shows  that 
he  possessed  a  stout,  straight-forward,  honest,  English 
heart. 

Another*  event,  characteristic  of  these  times  and 
men,  occurred  in  the  beginning  of  this  year.  In  the 
confusion  to  which  everything  got  reduced,  the  army 
knew  not  which  way  to  turn.  Abused  by  parliament 
— called  upon  alternately  to  overturn  and  obey  it,  it 
looked  about  for  some  light  to  guide  its  way.  In 
this  dilemma,  the  soldiers  cast  their  eyes  upv/ard 
to  the  Lord,  in  whose  service  they  fought.  No 
one  can  reflect  on  the  conclusion  they  came  to,  and 
the  manner  it  was  reached,  without  being  deeply 
struck  with  the  rehgious  spirit  that  animated  those 
brave  hearts.  Call  it  fanaticism,  folly,  impious  con- 
fidence, anything — it  is  certainly  not  hypocrisy.  A 
solemn  prayer-meeting  was  called  by  the  officers,  to 
pray  over  the  subject.  It  met  at  V/indsor  Castle, 
and  the  day  was  passed  in  fasting  and  supplication ; 
but,  without  bringing  any  answer  from  Heaven.  It 
met  again  the  next  day,  and  ended  with  the  same 
success.  The  third  morning  these  warriors  assem- 
bled for  the  last  time,  to  ask  the  Lord  for  his  guid- 
ance.     At   length,    according    to    Adjutant    General 


198  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Alien,  light  broke  in  upon  their  darkness,  and  the 
cause  of  their  troubles  was  revealed :  "  Which,"  says 
the  Adjutant  General,  "  we  found  to  he  those  cursed 
carnal  conferences,  our  ovvii  conceited  wisdom,  fears, 
and  want  of  faith,  had  prompted  us  the  year  before 
to  entertain  with  the  king  and  his  party."  These 
honest-hearted  men  had  hit  the  truth  w^ithout  doubt. 
It  was  those  ''cursed  carnal  conferences''  with  the 
king,  and  nothing  else,  that  had  well-nigh  ruined  the 
cause  of  English  liberty. 

But  one  would  think  that  they  might  have  stum- 
bled on  this  plain  fact,  without  fasting  and  praying 
three  days  over  it.  Cromwell,  we  suspect,  did  un- 
derstand it,  as  well  as  the  hint  conveyed  to  him  in  the 
decision. 

About  this  time,  also,  a  portion  of  the  fleet  revolted, 
and  sailed  for  Holland, 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE      SECOND      CIVIL      WAR.       1648. 

Cromwell  Marches  to  Subdue  the  Insurrection  in  Wales — Invests  Pem- 
broke Castle — Fairfax  Drives  the  Insurgents  into  Colcheater — Lam. 
bert  Sent  North  to  Retard  the  Scotch— Cromwell  Reduces  Pembroke, 
and  Starts  Northward — His  Unparalleled  March — Joins  Lambert- 
Battle  of  Preston — Enters  Edinburgh — Proceedings  in  Parliament — 
Attempt  to  Make  a  New  Treaty  with  the  King,  and  Destroy  Crom- 
well and  the  Independents — Stormy  Debate  in  Parliament — Army 
Marches  on  London — Pride's  Purge — Return  of  Cromwell — Course 
of  the  Independents  Defended. 

The  insurrectionary  movements  continued  to  grow 
more  alarming  every  day.  In  Wales,  one  Colonel  Poyer, 
governor  of  Pembroke  Castle,  had  declared  for  the 
king,  and  bade  defiance  to  parliament.  Cromwell, 
heedless  of  the  plots  his  enemies  might  lay  against  him 
in  his  absence,  and  intent  only  on  saving  his  country, 
took  five  regiments,  and  hastened  thither.  He  de- 
parted on  the  3d  of  May,  and  passing  through  Chep- 
stow, which  the  insurgents  had  taken,  summoned  the 
castle  to  surrender.  A  refusal  being  sent,  he  did  not 
choose  to  linger  before  it ;  but  leaving  Colonel  Ewer, 
with  a  small  force,  to  subdue  it,  who,  in  four  weeks, 
succeeded ;  he  hastened  forward. 

In  the  meantime,  Colonel  Horton,  with  a  parliament- 
ary   force   under  him,  attacked,  near  Cardiff,    a  large 


200  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

reinforcement  hastening  to  the  insurgents  of  Pembroke, 
and  routed  it  utterly. 

.  Pushing  rapidly  forward,  crushing  all  opposition  as 
he  advanced,  he,  in  ten  days  more,  came  in  sight  of 
Pembroke.  He  had  no  artillery ;  but  the  soldiers,  be- 
lieving nothing  impossible  under  their  invincible  leader, 
demanded  to  be  led  to  the  assault ;  and  mounting  the 
ramparts  with  shouts  and  songs,  seemed  about  to  carry 
them  by  one  bold  effort.  But,  suddenly  assailed  in 
turn,  w^ith  incredible  fury,  they  were  hurled  back  in  the 
darkness,  leaving  the  ditch  strewed  with  dead  bodies. 
Cromwell  then  sat  down  before  the  castle ;  and  while 
bending  all  his  energies  to  subdue  the  place,  wrote  to 
Major  Saunders,  at  Brecknock,  to  hasten  with  his  forces 
into  Monmouth,  and  arrest  Sir  Trevor  Williams,  a 
revolted  officer  of  parliament,  commanding  there,  also 
Mr.  Morgan,  high  sheriff  of  the  shire,  another  recreant 
official,  who  had  gone  over  to  the  king. 

While  he  was  thus  beleaguering  Pembroke,  unable  to 
make  a  breach,  for  the  want  of  cannon,  which  had 
been  stranded  on  their  passage  by  w^ater ;  Fairfax, 
though  ill  wdth  the  gout,  took  the  field  against  the 
insurgents  in  Kent,  Essex,  and  London.  Driving  the 
motley  army  before  him  into  Maidstone,  he  came  up 
with,  and  attacked  it  so  furiously,  that,  though  met 
and  opposed  gallantly,  he  utterly  dissipated  it.  The  dis- 
jointed bands  in  other  parts  of  this  county  and  Essex, 
finally  assembled  in  Colchester.  Thither  Fairfax 
marched;  and  closely  investing  the  place,  resolved  to 
starve  out  the  garrison.     Other  detachments  were  cut 


1648.]  r  Z  M  -3  R  0  K  E     FALLS.  201 

up ;  and  among  them,  one  under  young  Villiers,  son  of 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  Lambert  had  been  sent 
North,  against  Sir  Marmaduke  Langdale,  ^Yho  was 
gathering  the  cavahers  together,  to  be  ready  for  the 
approach  of  the  Scots. 

While  the  fires  were  thus  kindling  all  over  England, 
Cromwell  still  lay  before  Pembroke — writing,  in  the 
meantime,  to  Fairfax,  congratulating  him  on  his  vic- 
tories, and  wishing  he  was  by  his  side.  Thus  stood 
matters  in  the  army ;  and  parliament,  relieved  from  the 
sudden  danger  that  threatened  it,  turned  its  force  once 
more  against  the  Independents,  whose  chief  leaders 
were  now  absent  at  the  head  of  their  regiments.  It 
rescinded  the  vote  declaring  that  all  negotiations  with 
the  king  should  be  broken  off;  and  new  propositions, 
•milder  than  the  first,  were  talked  of  Their  easy  con- 
fidence, however,  was  of  short  duration :  the  advance 
of  the  Scottish  army,  under  Hamilton,  startled  them  in 
the  midst  of  their  political  squabbles ;  and  they  wrote 
to  Cromwell,  telling  him  to  forget  their  former  ani- 
mosity, and  relying  on  their  support,  push  the  war  with 
vigor.  The  Derby  House  Committee,*  controlled  by  the 
Independents,  also  wrote  him  to  hurry  off  what  troops 
he  could  spare,  to  the  succor  of  Lambert,  and  follow 
himself  with  all  speed,  soon  as  Pembroke  was  reduced. 
But  the  commands  of  the  one,  and  the  fawning  syco- 
phancy of  the  other,  fell  alike  unheeded.  In  the  midst 
of  danger,  he  was  at  home  ;  and  the  greater  the  dif- 

*  Old  Committee  of  both  Kingdoms  revamped,  by  excluding  some 
Presbyterians,  and  electing  Independents  in  their  places. 
9* 


202  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

ficulties  that  sun'ounded  him,  the  more  resplendent 
shone  his  genius.  Three  weeks  before  these  messages 
reached  him,  he  w^as  on  the  march  for  Scotland.  In- 
formed by  his  trusty  servants  of  all  that  passed,  he  had 
sent  w^ord  to  Lambert  to  fall  back  before  the  enemy, 
till  he  should  arrive  to  his  aid  ;  and  coiling  himself 
closer  and  closer  round  Pembroke  Castle,  and  thunder- 
ing upon  it  with  his  cannon,  which  had  finally  ar- 
rived— hurling  back  every  sally,  and  pressing  home 
every  advantage — he,  at  length,  July  11th,  (three  days 
after  the  Scotch  crossed  the  borders,)  marched  through 
the  gates,  and  received  the  unconditional  surrender  of 
the  garrison. 

For  seven  weeks  his  men  had  been  kept  on  constant 
duty ;  and  now,  worn  out  and  exhausted,  needed  repose. 
But  the  storm  that  had  long  been  gathering  on  the 
northern  horizon,  and  was  now  rolling  heavily  over  the 
borders,  would  admit  of  no  delay ;  and,  two  days  after 
Pembroke  surrendered,  he  broke  up  his  camp,  and 
writing  to  the  Derby  House  Committee,  "  Send  me  some 
shoes  for  my  poor  tired  soldiers — -for  they  have  a  long 
inarch  to  make"  started  w^th  his  little  army  of  five 
thousand  men  to  meet  the  Scotch  invasion.  Moving 
westward,  then  northward,  obtaining  3,000  shoes  for 
his  soldiers  at  Leicester,  he  swept  forward  with  a  speed 
till  then  unknown  in  the  annals  of  war.  Awing  the 
insubordinate ;  encouraging  the  friendly  ;  treading  out 
the  smoking  insurrection  as  he  passed ;  now  praying 
and  preaching  w^ith  his  soldiers,  and  now  hurrying  on 
the   exhausted   columns;   he  moved  over  the  country 


1648.]  HIS     ASTONISHING     MARCH.  203 

like  an  avenging  spirit  whose  footsteps  could  brook  no 
delay.  Though  weary  and  worn,  no  sooner  had  the 
soldiers  pitched  their  tents  at  night  than  they  resounded 
with  the  voice  of  prayer,  and  rung  with  hymns  of 
praise  to  God.  With  the  first  blush  of  day,  the  roll 
of  the  drum  called  them  from  their  heavy  slumbers, 
and  they  again  took  up  their  line  of  march.  No  one 
but  the  leader  at  their  head  could  have  roused  them  to 
such  efforts.  But,  cheered  by  his  presence  who  had 
never  led  them  but  to  victory,  and  excited  to  enthu- 
siasm by  his  stirring  appeals,  they  bore  all  with  cheer- 
fulness, and  moved  forward  with  alacrity.  He  had 
sent  off  his  cavalry  in  advance,  to  sustain  Lambert  till 
he  arrived,  which  reached  him  on  the  27th  of  July, 
just  thirteen  days  after  its  departure.  On  that  very 
day,  the  portion  of  the  fleet  which  had  re\  Oiied  from 
parliament  in  May  last,  and,  setting  their  oiiimander 
ashore,  fled  to  Holland ;  arrived  in  England  with  the 
young  Prince  of  Wales  on  board. 

A  fearful  crisis  was  now  fast  approaching.  The 
king,  though  a  prisoner,  was  surrounded  with  friends 
plotting  his  escape — Colchester  still  held  out  against 
Fairfax — the  Prince  of  Wales  was  on  the  coast  issuing 
his  proclamations — all  England  was  on  fire,  waiting  to 
see  whether  Cromwell,  would  be  crushed  before  the 
united  forces  of  the  English  and  Scotch,  now  more 
than  twenty  thousand  strong.  Every  eye  was  turned 
towards  this  single  leader,  who,  when  his  wearied  troops 
were  joined  to  those  under  Lambert,  would  scarcely 
exceed  eight  thousand  men — a  number  little  more  than 


204  O  L  T  V  E  R     C  K  O  M  V.   E  L  L  . 

one-third  of  the  force  against  him.  Never  were  the 
heavens  more  black  and  tempestuous  over  his  head  than 
at  this  moment.  At  length,  after  twenty-days'  march, 
he  effected  a  junction  with  Lambert ;  and  high  and  wild 
were  the  shouts  that  went  up,  as  the  head  of  his  tired 
columns  approached  the  camp. 

BATTLE    OF    PRESTON FIRST    DAy's    FIGHT. 

The  Scotch  and  English  army  were  advancing  into 
Lincolnshire,  Avhen  Oliver,  with  his  army  of  eight,  or  as 
some  say,  nine  thousand  men,  set  out  to  meet  it.  The 
English  cavaliers,  commanded  by  Sir  Marmaduke 
Langdale,  whom  Cromwell  routed  so  terribly  at  Nase- 
by,  were  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  in  advance  of  the 
Scotch.  This  wide  and  impolitic  separation,  was 
owing  to  the  immovable  repugnance  of  the  sturdy 
Scotch  Presbyterians  to  unite  in  close  fellowship  with 
the  English  royalists,  unless  they  would  subscribe  to  the 
Scotch  Covenant. 

Thus,  a  day's  march  apart,  the  two  armies  moved 
forward.  At  length,  it  w^as  told  Langdale,  that  Crom- 
well was  within  a  short  distance  of  him,  and  rapidly 
advancing.  He  instantly  sent  word  to  Hamilton,  and 
asked  for  reinforcements.  The  duke,  however,  refused, 
declaring  it  was  impossible  that  Cromwell  had  arrived 
so  soon  from  Wales,  or  at  least,  with  any  considerable 
force.  Nor  was  this  opinion  presumptive : — who  could 
believe  that  he  had  traversed  the  breadth  and  length  of 
England  in  so  short  a  time  ?     His   heavy  blows  had 


COMMENCEMENT     OF     THE     BATTLE.         205 

scarcely  ceased  thundering  on  the  gates  of  Pembroke 
Castle,  and  now,  they  said,  he  was  driving  in  their  advanc- 
ed posts.  "  Impossible !"  exclaimed  the  duke,  yet  it  was 
nevertheless  true. 

Cromwell  being  informed  of  the  loose  manner  in 
which  the  army  was  marching,  and  also  of  the  expected 
approach  of  the  Irish  auxiliaries,  2500  strong,  resolved, 
without  delay,  to  fall  upon  it ;  and  cutting  it  in  two,  roll 
the  divided  portions  noi'th  and  south,  as  the  rock  rolls 
the  stream.  Sending  off,  therefore,  his  train,  in  order 
to  be  unencumbered,  and  to  move  with  more  facility 
he,  on  the  13th  of  August,  started  for  Lancashire.  The 
16th,  he  approached  near  to  Stonyhaust,  and  encamped 
within  nine  miles  of  Preston,  and  three  miles  of  the 
Scottish  quarters.  Here  a  council  of  war  w^as  called, 
and  it  was  i^esolved  to  cross  the  Ribble  river  nex-t  day, 
and  attack  the  enemy  at  Preston.  It  might  have 
gone  hard  with  Oliver,  but  for  the  stubbornness  of 
Hamilton,  who  persisting  in  believing  that  his  dreaded 
adversary  was  not  near,  drew  off  a  large  portion  of  his 
troops,  on  the  very  day  of  battle.  Part  of  his  cavalry, 
under  Middleton,  had  also  gone  to  Wigan,  eight  miles 
distant,  so  that  the  two  opposing  forces  were  about  equal. 

The  next  morning — it  was  a  dark  and  drizzly  morn- 
ing— the  republicans  began  to  advance.  Two  detach- 
ments, one  of  two  hundred  horse,  and  another  of  four 
hundred  foot,  were  sent  forward  to  commence  the 
attack.  The  former,  coming  upon  a  large  body  under 
Langdale,  halted  until  the  latter  could  arrive.  Crom- 
well, perceiving  this  hesitation,  spurred  forward,  and 


208  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

ordered  them  to  advance.  But  the  odds  were  too  great, 
and  they  asked  for  a  httle  delay,  till  the  arrival  of  the 
other  detachment.  ''March!"  thundered  forth  Crom- 
well, and  the  gallant  troop,  with  a  shout  of  defiance, 
precipitated  itself  forward.  Bearing  resolutely  up 
against  the  overwhelming  numbers,  they  maintained 
their  ground  till  the  foot  came  up,  when  charging  home 
on  the  ranks,  they  sent  them,  broken  and  disordered,  back 
to  the  main  army,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  the  rear. 

This  was  the  commencement  of  the  battle ;  and  amid 
the  roar  of  cannon,  the  shouts  and  enthusiastic  hymns 
of  his  men,  Cromwell  moved  steadily  forward  with  his 
entire  force.  The  English  were  drawn  up  on  an  en- 
closed moor,  a  short  distance  from  Preston.  The 
ground  was  well  chosen  to  prevent  the  charge  of 
Oliver's  Ironsides — a  body  of  cavalry  which  had  be- 
come the  terror  of  the  royalists — for,  intersected  by 
hedges  and  fences,  and  made  soft  and  miry,  by  the 
heavy  rains  of  the  past  week,  it  furnished  constant  bar- 
riers to  the  horses,  which  sunk  fetlock  deep  at  every 
step,  even  when  on  a  walk.  A  lane,  enclosed  with  a 
high  hedge,  and  trodden  into  mire,  led  straight  up  to  the 
English  centre.  In  this,  Cromwell  placed  two  regi- 
ments of  horse — his  own  and  Harrison's — v/hile  the  in- 
fantry stretched  out  on  either  side  like  two  arms.  Two 
regiments  of  horse  flanked  the  right  wing — one  regi- 
ment was  stationed  as  a  reserve  in  the  lane,  to  act  in 
case  of  need,  and  the  rest  of  the  cavalry  guarded  the 
left.  Thus  arrayed,  Cromwell  continued  to  advance 
under  the  heav}^  and  constan    fire  of  the  enemy.     The 


1648.]  THE     BATTLE.  207 

English  cannon  swept  the  lane,  while  from  every  hedge 
close  and  deadly  volleys  of  musketry  were  poured.  But 
nothing  could  stay  his  progress — the  solid  squadrons  of 
horse  advanced  slowly  but  firmly  to  the  charge — the 
levelled  pikes  cleared  every  hedge,  and  pushing  home 
every  advantage,  he  never  allowed  the  battle  to  recede 
for  a  moment.  Still,  every  inch  of  ground  was  contested 
with  noble  resolution,  and  not  a  regiment  fell  back  until 
it  had  left  the  ground  covered  wdth  its  dead.  It  was 
one  of  those  close-handed  fights,  where  there  is  no  ces- 
sation to  the  tumult — no  pauses  in  the  storm — but  the 
clang  of  sabres — ^I'attle  of  musketry — shouts  of  men — 
and  ever  and  anon  the  blast  of  trumpets,  conspire  to 
make  a  scene  of  indescribable  wildness  and  terror.  Sir 
Marmaduke  rode  hither  and  thither,  encouraging  his 
troops  to  bear  up  bravely;  and  strained  every  nerve  to 
maintain  his  ground.  But  nothing  could  resist  that  re- 
pubhcan  host ;  bent  on  victory,  they  received  the  close 
and  deadly  fire  of  their  foes  without  shrinking,  and  press- 
ing fearlessly  on  the  stands  of  levelled  pikes,  bore  down 
the  firm-set  ranks  with  a  steady  pressure,  against  which 
every  effort  seemed  powerless.  It  was  not  head  long 
valor,  but  constant  and  resolute  courage  that  decided 
the  day. 

After  four  hours  of  almost  unprecedented  fighting,  the 
royalists,  at  length,  gave  way  on  all  sides,  and  fled  into 
the  town.  Pressing  close  on  their  rear,  four  regiments 
of  cavalry  charged  shouting  along  the  streets,  clearing 
them  of  the  last  vestige  of  opposition. 

Night  ended  the  conflict,  and  the   Puritan  host  lay 


203  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

down  on  the  hard  fought  field,  wdth  their  arms  in 
their  hands.  Around  w^ere  scattered  the  dead  and  dy- 
ing— over  two  thousand  of  them — trampled  by  the  hoofs 
of  the  cavalry  into  the  mire.  All  along  that  lane — by 
the  hedges — on  the  open  moor,  and  sprinkhng  the  streets 
of  Preston,  corpses,  a  few  hours  before  stirring  with  life 
and  energy,  were  piled  in  ghastly  groups,  while  the 
silent  rain  fell  unheedingly  both  on  the  living  and  the 
dead. 

The  loss  to  the  EngUsh  army  was  four  thousand 
taken  prisoners,  and  from  one  to  two  thousand  slain. 
That  of  Cromwell  was  comparatively  slight,  though 
doubtless  far  greater  than  he  represented  in  his  de- 
spatches. 

He  followed  up  this  victory  with  his  usual  impetu- 
osity :  that  very  night  his  cavalry  pursued  the  royalists 
towards  Lancaster,  for  ten  miles,  cutting  down  the  fugi- 
tives at  every  step,  and  taking  five  hundred  prisoners. 

On  that  same  gloomy  night,  too,  Hamilton  called  a 
council  of  officers  together,  who  met  on  horseback,  to 
discuss  what  should  be  done.  Some  were  for  making  a 
stand,  until  Middleton,  who  had  been  sent  for,  at  Wigan, 
could  return  with  his  cavalry ;  and  then  try  their  for- 
tune in  another  battle.  But  most  being  for  a  retreat, 
the  dispirited  and  bleeding  army — hungry,  drenched 
and  weary,  without  a  drum  or  bugle  note  to  cheer  the 
way,  took  up  its  line  of  march  for  Wigan.  The  am- 
munition was  left  behind,  in  charge  of  a  guard,  who 
was  to  blow  it  up,  but  he  fled,  leaving  it  in  the  hands 
of  the  victors. 


1648.]  SECOND    day's    fight.  209 


SECOND    DAY  S    FIGHT. 


All  that  night,  the  Scotch,  eleven  or  twelve  thousand 
strong,  staggered  on  through  the  mud ;  and  were  miles 
in  advance  before  Cromwell  was  aware  of  their  depart- 
ure. Rousing  up  his  weary  soldiers,  whose  unparal- 
leled efforts  for  the  last  three  months,  and  especially  the 
last  few  days,  had  not  dispirited  them,  he  ordered  the 
pursuit.  Middleton  had  returned  at  the  summons  sent 
him  ;  but  coming  by  a  different  route  from  that  which 
the  army  took,  missed  it.  Arriving  at  Ribble  Bridge, 
he  found  the  duke  had  departed,  and  in  all  haste  fol- 
lowed after.  But  not  scatheless  did  he  go.  Thorn- 
haugh  pursued  him  so  hotly,  that  he  was  compelled 
again  and  again  to  turn  at  bay.  Carried  away  by 
his  boiling  courage,  this  gallant  leader,  leading  the 
advance-guard,  dashed  almost  alone  into  the  very 
midst  of  the  enemy,  and  fell,  pierced  by  two  lances. 
He  was  a  noble  officer ;  and  has  an  epitaph  that  any 
man  might  covet.  Says  Cromwell  of  him,  in  his  letter 
to  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons :  "  he  ivas  a 
man  as  faithful  and  gallant  in  your  service  as  any ; 
and  one  who  often,  heretofore,  lost  hlood  in  your  quarrel ; 
and  now  his  last.  He  hath  left  sons  behind  him  to 
inherit  a  father  s  honor  and  a  sad  widow; — both  now  the 
interest  of  the  Commonwealth."  A  noble  tribute  to  a 
gallant  officer  from  a  great  commander.  No  higher 
eulogy  ever  made  a  patriot  immortal. 

Still  forcing  the  enemy  before  him,   and  emptying 


210  OLIVER      CROMWELL. 

many  a  saddle  as  he  pressed  the  retiring  squadrons,  he 
continued  the  pursuit  to  within  three  miles  of  Wigan, 
where  Hamilton  made  a  stand.  But  no  sooner  did  the 
heads  of  the  columns  of  infantry  appear  in  rear,  than 
they  again  retreated.  It  was  a  terrible  day :  the  can- 
non rolled  up  to  the  axles  in  clay ;  and  the  horses  sunk 
almost  to  their  knees,  at  every  step.  Many  a  time  the 
cavalry  charged  on  a  walk ;  and  the  flight  and  pursuit 
were  often  kept  up  on  a  walk,  while  the  rain  fell  in  a 
constant  shower.  It  was  a  strange  scene,  those  two 
hosts  toiling  so  slowly  and  heavily  on,  in  the  deep  mire ; 
the  one  in  flight,  the  other  in  pursuit.  So  dreadful 
were  the  roads  that  they  made  but  twelve  miles  that 
day.  "  It  was  twelve  miles,"  says  Cromwell,  who  was 
used  to  rough  weather  and  rough  usage,  "  of  such 
ground  as  I  never  rode  in  all  my  life!'  A  hundred 
prisoners,  besides  the  slain,  were  the  meagre  fruits  of 
this  day's  toil. 

THIRD    day's    fight. 

That  night,  Cromwell  encamped  in  the  open  field, 
close  upon  the  enemy.  The  soldiers  were  drenched  to 
their  skins ;  but,  too  weary  to  think  of  their  exposure, 
dropped  in  their  ranks  and  slept;  while  the  August 
moon,  which  at  length  broke  through  and  dissipated  the 
clouds,  shone  sweetly  down  upon  them. 

Some  skirmishing  passed  between  the  outposts  ;  and 
the  republicans  made  a  hundred  prisoners — among 
whom  were  a  general  and  two  or  three  colonels.     Utter 


1648.]  TERROR     OF     THE     BOYALJgTS.  211 

terror  had  seized  the  royalists ;  and  at  the  mere  name 
of  Cromwell,  they  would  break  and  fly.  Sir  James 
Turner,  one  of  the  officers  in  the  Scotch  army,  thus 
speaks  of  his  own  experience,  this  same  night,  in  the 
village  of  Wigan.  He  says :  "  I  marched  with  the  last 
brigade  of  foot  through  the  town  of  Wigan :  I  was 
alarmed  that  our  horse  behind  me  were  beaten,  and 
running  several  ways,  and  that  the  enemy  was  in  my 
rear.  I  faced  about  with  that  brigade,  and  in  the  mar- 
ket-place, serried  the  pikes  together  shoulder  to  shoulder, 
to  entertain  any  that  might  charge ;  and  sent  orders  to 
fhe  rest  of  the  brigade  before  to  continue  their  march, 
and  follow  Lieutenant-General  Bailhe,  who  was  before 
them.  It  was  then  night ;  but  the  moon  shone  bright. 
A  regiment  of  horse  of  our  own  appeared  foremost, 
riding  very  disorderly :  I  got  them  to  stop,  till  I  com- 
manded my  pikes  to  open  and  give  way  for  them  to  ride, 
or  run  away,  since  they  would  not  stay.  But  now  my 
pike-men  being  demented,  (as  I  think  we  all  were,) 
would  not  hear  me ;  and  two  of  them  ran  full  tilt  at  me. 
One  of  their  pikes,  which  was  intended  for  my  belly,  1 
gripped  with  my  left  hand ;  the  other  ran  nearly  two 
inches  into  the  inner  side  of  my  right  thigh ;  all  of  them 
crying  of  me  and  those  horse, '  they  are  Cromwell's  men !' 
This  made  me  forget  all  rules  of  modesty,  prudence  and 
discretion.  I  rode  to  the  horse,  and  ordered  them  to 
charge  through  the  foot.  They,  fearing  the  hazard  of 
the  pikes  stood ;  I  then  made  a  cry  come  from  behind 
them  that  the  enemy  was  upon  them.  Thus  pressed 
by  greater  fears  behind,  they  were  roused  to  charge  my 


212  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

foot  SO  fiercely  that  thepikemen  threw  down  their  pikes 
and  got  into  houses.  All  the  horse  galloped  aw^ay,  and 
as  I  was  told  afterwards,  rode  not  through,  but  over, 
our  whole  foot  treading  them  down.  In  the  confusion, 
Col.  Lockhart  w^as  trod  down  from  his  horse,  wdth  great 
danger  of  his  life."* 

The  next  morning,  the  routed  and  broken  army  re- 
commenced its  disastrous  flight,  streaming  on  towards 
Warrington,  pursued  by  Cromwell  and  his  jaded  troops. 
When  within  about  three  miles  of  the  place,  the  Scots 
wheeled,  and  made  a  desperate  stand.  A  large  body  of 
pikemen  presented  a  solid  phalanx,  in  the  open  ground  ; 
while  the  hedges  were  hned  with  muskets,  which  opened 
a  sharp  and  destructive  fire  on  the  pursuers.  The  spot 
they  had  chosen,  had  all  the  advantage  of  a  pass  ;  and 
they  held  it  wdth  stubborn  resolution.  Again  and  again 
did  the  victorious  republicans,  move  shoulder  to 
shoulder,  on  the  levelled  pikes,  and  charge,  shouting 
on  the  thick-set  hedges.  But  the  Scots  stood  firm, 
commanded  by  a  mere  boy,  with  a  blue  bonnet,  w^hose 
chivalric  daring,  and  headlong  valor,  was  more  potent 
v^ith  them  than  the  authority  of  the  oldest  officers. 
Hour  after  hour  they  maintained  their  position; — ^but 
at  length,  reinforcements  coming  up  to  the  republicans, 
the  latter  made  a  last  charge,  and  cleared  the  pass.     On 

*  Vide  Turner's  Memoirs  of  his  own  Life  and  Time.  Carlyle,  in 
citing  this,  has  made  a  mistake,  in  placing  this  and  the  fight  near 
Warrington,  on  the  same  night.  The  former  was  on  the  evening  of 
the  18th;  the  hot  encounter  which  followed,  the  day  after.  The 
confusion,  doubtless,  arose  from  the  indistinct  relation  of  Sir  James 
Turner. 


1648.]  THE     VICTORY.  213 

that  well-contested  ground,  the  Scotch  left  a  thousand 
slain,  and  among  them  the  young  "  gallant  in  the  blue 
bonnet."*  Falling  back  on  Warrington,  they  barricaded 
the  place,  and  made  another  stand.  When  Cromwell 
came  up,  and  saw  the  strength  of  the  position,  he  ex- 
pected a  bloody  resistance ;  but,  to  his  surprise,  Lieu- 
tenant-General  Baillie,  who  commanded  the  troops — • 
nearly  four  thousand  in  number — sent  in  an  offer  to  ca- 
pitulate, which  was  accepted,  and  the  three  days'  battle 
was  over.  Of  all  that  gallant  array,  that  came  so 
proudly  over  the  borders,  nothing  now  remained  but 
shattered  and  disordered  fragments.  With  his  eight 
thousand  republicans,  Oliver  had  utterly  dissipated  it — 
having  slain  several  thousands,  and  taken  nearly  nine 
thousand  prisoners. 

Hamilton,  himself,  with  about  three  thousand  horse, 
fled  towards  Nantwich,  harrassed  at  every  step  by  the 
inhabitants.  Cromwell  sent  Lambert  after  him,  and 
himself  attempted  a  pursuit  of  the  enemy  ;  but,  finding 
his  troops  had  been  overtasked,  he  recalled  them.  Con- 
stantly in  the  saddle,  riding  hither  and  thither — now 
exhorting  his  army  in  that  enthusiastic  language  he 
knew  so  well  how  to  employ;  and  now  toiling  over 
the  hard-fought  field,  his  mind,  for  the  last  few  weeks, 
and,  especially,  last  few  days,  had  been  wrought  up  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  excitement,  and  his  body  to  its  great- 
est power  of  endurance.  Yet,  when  the  victory  was 
gained,  he  did  not  flag ;  but  grieved  that  he  could  not 
follow  up  the  victory  more  vigorously.     The  result  of 

*  Vide  Heath's  Chronicle,  cited  by  Carlyle. 


214  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

the  attempt  to  do  it  shows  Avhat  unparalelled  exertions 
had  been  demanded;  and  cheerfully  rendered,  by  his  de- 
voted Ironsides.  When  ordered  to  march,  the  bugles 
sounded;  but  those  jaded  horses  no  longer  sprung  to  the 
touch  of  the  spur.  With  their  heads  down,  and  stiff 
in  all  their  joints,  they  moved  at  a  snail's  pace  along. 
The  worn  riders  could  not  prick  them  into  a  gait  faster 
than  an  easy  walk ;  and  Cromwell,  seeing  how  com- 
pletely knocked  up  his  favorite  cavalry  were,  resolved 
to  give  them  rest.  In  his  letter  to  Speaker  Lenthall,  he 
says,  in  his  blunt  manner,  "  If  I  had  a  thousand  horse 
that  could  trot  thirty  miles,  I  should  not  doubt  but  to 
give  a  very  good  account  of  them ;  but,  truly,  we  are  so 
harassed  and  haggled  out,  in  this  business,  that  we 
are  not  able  to  do  more  thoji  walk  an  easy  pace  aft.e^ 
them." 

The  prisoners  encumbered  the  army,  and  he  begged 
parliament  to  make  some  disposition  of  them.  He  said 
they  would  not  go  home  if  they  might  without  a  guard, 
they  were  so  fearful  of  the  country  they  had  ravaged  in 
their  march. "  Ten  men''  he  writes, "  will  keep  a  thousand 
from  running  away." 

To  Major  Berry  and  Edward  Sexton  who  brought 
Cromwell's  despatches  to  parhament,  the  respective 
sums  of  tw^o  hundred  and  one  hundred  pounds  were 
voted  as  a  reward  for  being  the  bearers  of  such  good 
news.  A  day  of  general  thanksgiving  was  ordered,  and 
gladness  filled  the  hearts  of  the  republicans.  Colchester, 
before  which  Fairfax  had  lain  all  this  time,  now  surren- 
dered— the  Prince  of  Wales  with  the  fleet  put  swiftly 


1648.]  RAGE     OF     THE     ROYALISTS.  215 

to  sea,  and  steered  again  for  Holland ;  while,  with  his 
troops  in  a  state  of  open  mutiny,  and  Lambert  close  at 
hand,  the  Duke  of  Hamilton  surrendered  at  Uttoxeter, 
in  Staffordshire,  on  the  25th,  and  afterwards  mounted 
the  scaffold.  When  the  exciting  news  reached  Scot- 
land, "  the  kirk  and  Argyle  party"*  flew  to  arms  to 
complete  the  demolition  of  Hamilton's  scattered  forces. 
This,  says  Carlyle,  was  called  the  "  Whiggamore 
Raid,"  1648  ;  the  first  appearance  of  the  whig  party 
on  the  page  of  history,  I  think.  "  David  Leslie  was  at 
their  head,  and  old  Leven,  '  the  field-marshal  of  1639/ 
in  the  castle  of  Edinburgh,  w^ho  cannonaded  the  Royal 
*  Hamilton'  troops  whenever  they  came  in  view  of 
him."  Colonel  Monro,  who  commanded  the  rear-guard 
of  the  Scotch  army,  and  fled  at  the  first  battle,  now 
gathered  up  the  scattered  fragments  of  the  two  armies, 
Scotch  and  English,  and  whatever  else  he  could  mus- 
ter, and  pillaging  the  counties  through  which  he  passed, 
endeavored  to  raise  another  force  wdth  which  to  make 
head  against  the  republicans. 

The  manner  in  which  these  great  disasters,  falling  so 
rapidly  on  the  heels  of  each  other,  were  received  by 
the  royalists  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  ex- 
tract from  one  of  their  own  papers.  "  Nothing,"  says 
this  paper,  "  is  heard  now  among  the  brethren  but 
triumph  and  joy,  singing  and  mirth  for  their  happy 
success  (thanks  to  the  devil  first,  and  next  to  Noll 
Cromwell's  nose)  against  the  Scots,  whom  they  vaunt 
they  have  beaten  to  dust."     It  then  goes  on  to  state 

The  church  party  that  repudiated  the  king— and  hence  this  war. 


216  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

tne  ruin  that  had  overtaken  the  royaHsts,  "  and  as  if 
the  devil  had  got  the  sway  of  mundane  affairs,  the  most 
robust  and  heroic  knight,  Sir  Marmaduke,  was  un- 
luckily imprisoned  v/ith  some  other  w^ealthy  loyahsts^ 
as  they  were  sitting  in  a  bhnd  ale-house,  and  carried 
prisoners  to  Nottingham  Castle.  But  Monro,  one  of 
the  best  soldiers  in  Christendom,  is  coming  on  with  a 
powerful  army  to  give  Noll  Cromwell  another  field- 
fight.  *  *  *  if  he  can  shatter  this  army,  also,  he  will 
prove  himself  one  of  the  most  fortunate  villains  that 
ever  acted  mischief  He  will  find  hard  play  here,  for 
these  will  not  be  laughed  out  of  their  loyalty  nor  fright- 
ed out  of  themselves  with  the  blazing  of  his  beacon 
nose."^  But  no  sooner  did  Lambert  rejoin  him,  after 
the  pursuit  of  Hamilton,  than  this  same  Noll  Cromwell 
gave  orders  to  march  after  the  valiant  Monro,  who 
took  good  care  not  to  let  his  soldiers  see  the  "  blazing 
of  that  beacon  nose," — much  less  feel  the  stroke  of  his 
trusty  blades.  Fleeing  before  him,  he  crossed  the 
border,  and  left  Scotland  open  to  his  victorious  army. 
In  the  meantime,  Cromwell  published  a  declaration 
requiring  all  the  fugitives  of  the  late  Scotch  army  to 
remain  in  the  places  designated  for  them. :  should  they 
disobey,  the  friends  of  parliament  wjre  to  seize,  and 
if  resistance  was  offered,  to  slay  them.  He,  also,  while 
lying  here  on  the  Scotch  border,  sent  a  letter  to  Fair- 
fax, recommending  the  widow^  of  one  Col.  Powell  to 
his  "  tender  consideration,"  and  requesting  he  w^ould  use 
his  influence  in  parliament  to  have  her  and  hers  provided 
*  Cited  from  Parliament  Porter,  by  the  author  of  British  Statesmen 


1648.]  ENTERS     SCOTLAND.  217 

for ;  saying,  that  "  upon  his  death-bed"  the  gallant  colo- 
nel, (who  had,  doubtless,  fallen  at  Preston,)  commended 
his  wife  and  children  to  his  care.  He,  also,  wrote  to 
the  "  Committee  of  Estates  for  the  kingdom  of  Scotland/' 
announcing  his  arrival  at  Berwick,  and  demanding  the 
rendition  of  the  castle,  together  with  its  garrison  and 
that  of  Carlisle :  this  letter  was  dated  the  16th  of 
September.  Four  days  before,  the  frightened  Munro 
appeared  before  Edinburgh ;  but  being  refused  entrance 
and  seeing  the  cannon  of  the  castle  pointed  against  him, 
and  an  army  6,000  strong  ready  to  give  him  battle,  he 
moved  off  to  Stirling,  where  he  made  a  treaty,  and 
submitted  to  the  constituted  authorities. 

Berwick  and  Carlisle  were  at  length  both  given  up, 
Sept.  24th,  "by  the  order  of  the  Earl  of  Lanark  and 
divers  lords  of  his  party."  Nine  days  before,  Cromwell 
issued  a  proclamation  forbidding  his  soldiers  to  plunder 
or  commit  any  violence  on  the  inhabitants,  on  pain  of 
death.  This  was  caused  by  the  disorderly  conduct  of 
a  regiment  of  horse,  w^hich  crossing  the  Tweed  "on 
the  Lord's  Day,"  as  the  army  w^as  marching  to  the 
banks,  seized  some  horses,  and  otherwise  behaved  "dis- 
orderly." For  this  offence  the  commanding  officer 
was  suspended,  and  the  plunderers  cashiered.  Crom 
well  wrote  to  the  "Committee  of  Estates"  about  it; 
stating,  that  this  regiment,  together  with  the  other 
marauding  parties,  w^ere  not  a  part  of  his  regular  army, 
but  "  northern  horse,"  who  had  not  been  under  his  dis- 
cipline and  government  "until  just  as  he  came  into 

those  parts."     These  troops  he  sent  back  to  England, 
10 


218  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

much  to  the  joy  of  the  people,  who  felt  that  the  enemy 
was  more  considerate  of  their  safety  and  happiness 
than  their  pretended  friends. 

In  the  meantime,  having  left  garrisons  at  Berwick 
and  Carlisle,  he  marched  on  Edinburgh.  The  gates 
were  thrown  open  to  receive  him,  and  entering  them 
on  the  4th  of  October,  he  was  escorted  in  triumph 
through  the  city.  Great  and  small  flocked  to  see  him, 
and  he  was  entertained  like  a  king.  The  next  day  he 
addressed  a  long  letter  to  the  "Committee  of  Estates 
for  the  Kingdom  of  Scotland" — going  over  the  causes 
of  the  war,  showing  how  dangerous  the  party  he  had 
just  humbled  w^as,  and  the  necessity  of  extirpating  it, 
root  and  branch ;  and  concluded  wath  the  demand,  that 
they  should  not  allow  any  one  engaged  in  the  recent  hos- 
tilities against  England,  "  to  be  employed  in  any  public 
place  of  trust  whatsoever^  "  This,"  said  he,  "  is  the 
least  security  I  can  demand."  It  was  graciously  granted 
the  next  day.  On  the  following  day,  a  great  dinner 
was  given  him  at  Edinburgh  Castle,  at  which  the  Earl 
of  Leven  presided,  and  the  Marquis  of  Argyle,  and  other 
lords  and  dignitaries  were  guests.  As  Ohver  left  the 
castle,  the  cannon  thundered  forth  a  salute :  and  escort- 
ed by  lords,  he  departed  from  the  city,  and  again  turned 
his  face  southward. 

But,  during  these  eventful  months,  so  big  with  the 
fate  of  England,  far  different  scenes  were  passing  in 
parliament.  Urging  on  Cromwell  all  despatch  and 
vigor,  while  the  enemy  threatened  them  and  their  gov- 
ernment together,  the  Presbyterians  no  sooner  saw  him 


1648.]  PLOTS     OF     HIS     ENEMIES.  219 

victorious  than  they  attempted  to  stab  him  in  the  back. 
Thus,  while  he  was  straining  every  nerve  to  save  Eng- 
land, parliament  was  plotting  to  destroy  him.  Now, 
leading  his  bare-foot  soldiers  away  from  Pembroke  Cas- 
tle, and  now,  hurrying  them,  weary  and  exhausted,  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  land ;  and  though  outnumbered 
nearly  three  to  one,  hurling  them  in  such  rapid  and 
successive  charges  on  the  enemy,  that  they  break  and 
fly,  never  more  to  rally — marching  through  the  drench- 
ing rain — pressing  up  every  advantage  with  such 
energy,  that  his  tired  cavalry  can  pursue  only  on  a 
walk — overcoming  all  obstacles,  and  quenching,  with 
one  great  effort,  the  flames  of  civil  war,  he  claims  the 
affection  and  gratitude  of  government;  but  receives 
only  its  jealousy  and  deadly  hostility. 

No  sooner  had  he  departed  for  the  North,  than  the 
Presbyterians,  seeing  that  his  success  Vv^ould  be  their 
ruin,  determined  to  crush  him,  whatever  his  fortune 
might  he.  The  eleven  members  v/ere  recalled,  and 
Holies  returned  and  took  his  seat.  New  negotia- 
tions were  opened  with  the  king,  and  fresh  commis- 
sioners sent  for  that  purpose  to  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
Soon  after,  (August  8th,)  Huntington,  formerly  a  major 
in  CromwelFs  own  regiment,  addressed  a  memorial  to 
the  House  of  Lords,  in  which  he  accused  the  latter 
of  intrigue,  perfidy,  ambition,  and  contempt  of  parlia- 
ment and  the  rights  of  the  people.  He  made  oath  to 
his  specifications ;  but  when  it  came  to  be  sent  to  the 
House  of  Commons,  no  member  dared  take  charge  of  it. 
The  name  of  Cromwell  inspired  too  much  terror.     It 


Si20  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

was  then  sent  to  the  Speaker,  who,  inspired  by  the  same 
terror,  laid  it  aside,  and  never  told  the  House  he  had 
received  it. 

Oliver's  friends  in  parliament  denounced,  in  the  most 
unsparing  terms,  this  attempt  to  destroy  a  member  of 
the  House,  while  absent  in  the  service  of  the  country. 
They  even  sent  to  Fairfax,  before  Colchester,  and  be- 
sought him  to  interfere.  He  promised  to  do  so,  in  case 
of  need,  but  said  the  time  had  not  yet  come.  Ludlow 
then  applied  to  Ireton,  whom  Cromwell  had  left  behind, 
on  purpose,  no  doubt,  to  watch  his  enemies  during 
his  absence,  and  received  a  similar  reply.  There 
was  no  officer  in  the  army,  whose  service  he  needed 
more  in  his  Scottish  campaign,  than  those  of  his  brave 
and  gifted  son-in-law.  But  neither  was  there  a  man  in 
the  kingdom,  to  whom  he  could  entrust  so  safely  the 
common  cause  while  absent. 

These  assassin-like  attempts  to  ruin  Cromwell  were 
made  on  the  very  days  he  was  periling  his  life  in  the 
battles  of  Preston. 

Determined,  how^ever,  not  to  die  without  a  struggle, 
the  republicans,  notwithstanding  the  apathy  of  Fairfax, 
pressed  parliament  with  petitions  to  declare  itself  the 
sovereign  power,  and  grant  the  reforms  so  long  promis 
ed ;  but  they  received  no  reply  whatsoever. 

In  the  meantime,  September  13th,  the  fifteen  commis 
si  oners,  five  from  the  upper  House,  and  ten  from  the 
lower,  started  for  the  Isle  of  Wight,  to  settle  a -treaty  of 
peace  with  the  king.     Three  days  after,  Henry  Marten 


i 


1648.]     NEGOTIATIONS     WITH     THE     KING.  221 

took  horse  for  Scotland;  to  inform  Cromwell  of  what 
was  passing,  and  hasten  his  return. 

On  the  18th  of  September,  the  commissioners  open- 
ed their  negotiations.  These  were  to  last  forty  days, 
during  Avhich  time  the  king  was  to  make  no  attempt 
to  escape.  At  the  opening  of  the  conference,  Charles 
sat  under  a  canopy,  with  his  counsellors  silent  around 
him.  His  hair  had  turned  slightly  grey,  and  on  his 
fine  countenance  was  an  expression  of  sadness  and 
melancholy  thought,  traced  there  by  his  heavy  misfor- 
tunes. Every  morning  the  commissioners  appeared 
before  him,  and  each  separate  proposal  wt^s  fully  argued. 
Charles  combatted  ably  for  his  rights;  but  yielding 
step  by  step,  at  length,  agreed  to  surrender  the  military 
force  to  parliament,  and  allovv'  it  to  nominate  the  chief 
officers  of  State.  He  even  declared  the  war  which  had 
been  waged  against  him,  law^ful ;  indeed,  consented  to 
everything  but  the  punishment  of  his  friends,  and  the 
abolition  of  episcopacy.  The  forty  days  were  consum- 
ed in  these  protracted  negotiations,  and  twice  v/as  the 
time  extended.  Five  times  the  commissioners  voted  his 
concessions  insufficient,  but  still  eagerly  pressed  a  settle- 
ment, before  Crom'\vell  should  return  and  upset  every- 
thing. The  king,  however,  stood  firm  on  these  points, 
and  was  evidently  heartless  in  his  concessions  with 
regard  to  the  others :  for,  after  giving  his  royal  word 
that  the  persecutions  in  Ireland  should  be  stopped,  he 
secretly  wrote  to  Ormond,  commanding  him  to  obey  his 
wife's  orders,  not  his,  nor  "trouble  himself  about  his 
concessions  to  Ireland,  as  they  would  lead  to  nothing :" 


222  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

and  on  the  very  day  he  promised  to  give  up  the  mili- 
tary power  to  parliament  for  twenty  years,  he  wTote  to 
Sir  William  Hopkins,  that  this  concesssion  w^as  made 
solely  to  "facilitate  his  approaching  escape."  Thus 
false  throughout,  he  regarded  all  promises  as  compul- 
sory, so  long  as  he  was  not  on  the  throne. 

While  events  were  thus  progressing  in  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  parliament  became  a  scene  of  confusion  and 
alarm.  The  army  was  enraged  at  ihe  negotiations 
carried  on  with  the  king ;  Cromwell  was  returning,  and 
everything  tending  to  a  catastrophe.  Petitions  came 
pouring  in  against  all  delinquents ;  at  length,  one  from 
the  regiments  of  Ireton,  Ingoldsby,  Fleetwood,  Whalley 
and  Overton,  demanding  justice  on  the  king. 

THE    CHIEF    DELINaUENT. 

On  the  20th  of  November,  Col.  Ewer  presented  him- 
self at  the  door  of  the  House  with  a  grand  remonstrance 
from  the  army,  in  which  the  perils  of  the  country  were 
specified  and  charged  home  on  the  imbecile  parliament. 
It  called  on  them  to  break  off  all  negotiations  with  the 
king,  and  bring  him  to  trial — to  declare  the  sovereignty 
of  the  people — ^provide  for  universal  suffrage — in  short, 
establish  a  repubhc.  It  fell  like  a  bomb  in  the  midst  of 
parliament,  and  for  awhile  all  was  confusion,  indigna- 
tion and  excitement.  After  two  days'  stormy  debate,  it 
was  voted  to  return  no  answer  at  all  to  the  remon- 
strance. But  this  only  inflamed  the  popular  feeling. 
The  most  alarming  and  contradictory  reports  were  cir- 


1648. J  ALARM     IN     PARLIAMENT.  223 

culated.  Now  Cromwell  was  close  at  hand — now 
Fairfax  and  Ireton  were  about  to  lead  the  army  on 
London.  On  the  other  side,  the  royalists  threatened 
assassination — Fairfax  was  warned  of  his  danger — it 
was  even  rumored  that  eighty  of  the  most  powerful 
members  were  to  be  murdered  as  they  left  the  House. 
The  republicans  were  openly  insulted — Rainsborough 
had  been  poniarded  at  Doncaster,  and  all  was  terror 
and  dismay.  But  amid  the  various  and  startling  ru- 
mors borne  to  the  ear  of  Charles,  one  alarmed  him 
more  than  all  others,  viz. :  that  Fairfax  had  removed 
Hammond  from  the  governship  of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  on 
the  ground  of  his  being  too  lenient  to  him,  and  appointed 
Colonel  Ewer  in  his  place.  It  was  this  news  which 
impelled  him  to  make  immediate  and  great  concessions, 
which  he  had  no  intention  of  fulfilling. 

Hammond  seems  to  have  been  an  ingenuous,  con- 
scientious man,  ill-fitted  for  the  turbulent  times  in 
which  he  was  throv/n.  He  left  the  army,  and  selected 
the  governorship  of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  in  order  to  obtain 
quiet,  and  lo,  he  was  now  in  the  very  vortex  of  trouble 
and  excitement.  On  the  same  day,  November  25th, 
in  which  he  received  the  order  from  Fairfax,  to  resign 
his  post,  Cromwell,  from  near  Pontefract,  the  castle  of 
which  he  was  endeavoring  to  subdue  in  his  march 
northward,  was  writing  a  long,  and  somewhat  remarka- 
ble letter  to  him.  It  was  rather  a  sermon  than  a  letter, 
in  which  he  discussed  the  providences  of  God,  as  seen 
in  the  times — the  duty  of  every  conscientious  man — the 
Ijswful  power  of  the  army,  &c.,  &c.     He  endeavored  to 


224  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

satisfy  the  religious  scruples  of  his  "dear  Robin,"  as  he 
called  him,  respecting  the  course  he  should  adopt 
towards  the  king ;  telling  him  that  it  w^as  wrong  to  flinch 
from  the  responsibility  providence  had  thrown  upon 
him,  and  exhorting  him  to  seek  the  "spirit  of  knowledge 
and  understanding,  the  spirit  of  counsel,  and  might,  and 
wisdom,  and  fear  of  the  Lord."  He  closed  this  singular 
epistle  with : 

"  This  trouble  I  have  been  at,  because  my  soul  loves 
thee;  and  I  would  not  have  thee  swerve,  or  lose  any 
glorious  opportunity  the  Lord  puts  into  thy  hand.  The 
Lord  be  thy  counsellor. 

"Dear  Robin,  I  rest  thine. 

"Oliver  Cromwell." 

It  came  too  late,  how^ever,  to  affect  "  Robin"  in  the 
discharge  of  his  duties  as  governor ; — Fairfax,  doubtless 
through  the  influence  of  Ireton,  had  taken  a  more 
effectual  method  to  prevent  any  weak  misgivings,  and 
appointed  a  sterner  and  more  resolute  man  in  his  place. 

The  same  day,  also,  the  commissioners  departed  with 
the  compact  made  betw^een  them  and  the  king.  On  the 
1st  of  December,  it  was  laid  before  parliament;  and 
though  possessing  the  same  obnoxious  points,  which  had 
caused  the  former  rejection  of  the  king's  proposals,  the 
Presbyterians  moved  that  it  should  be  the  basis  of  a 
peace ;  and  the  debate  commenced.  It  had  lasted, 
however,  but  a  few  hours,  when  a  letter  was  received 
from  Fairfax,  stating  that  the  army  was  marching  on 
London.     In  the  midst  of  the  sudden  terror,  caused  by 


1648.]  ARMY     MARCHES     ON     LONDON.  225 

this  announcement,  the  Independents  called  out  "  Ques- 
tion! Question!"  hoping,  in  the  panic,  to  defeat  the 
motion  before  the  House.  But  the  Presbyterians  had 
rallied  for  a  death  struggle,  and  would  not  let  the 
vote  be  taken,  and  the  debate  was  adjourned  over  to  next 
day. 

In  the  meantime,  the  army  at  Windsor  was  bov\^ed  in 
prayer  before  God.  It  had  heard,  the  day  before,  of  the 
rejection  of  its  remonstrance,  and  appointed  this  as  a  day 
of  prayer,  in  order  to  seek  direction  and  guidance  from 
heaven.  At  its  conclusion,  it  was  resolved,  with  one 
accord,  to  advance  on  London ;  and  the  next  morning, 
December  2d,  while  parliament,  again  in  session,  was 
debating  the  motion  of  the  previous  day,  it  took  up  its 
line  of  march.  Before  night,  the  massive  columns 
were  pouring  quietly,  yet  rapidly,  into  the  city. 

Meanwhile,  the  debate  was  carried  on  tumultuously  in 
the  House,  and  protracted  till  evening,  when,  (the  next 
day  being  Sunday,)  it  was  adjourned  over  to  Monday. 
That  was  a  solemn  Sabbath  for  London  and  England. 
In  the  several  quarters  of  the  army,  no  rioting  was  per- 
mitted, and  nothing  but  prayer  and  exhortations  broke  the 
stillness  and  solemnity  that  reigned  throughout  the  capi- 
tal. But  all  the  religious  ceremonies  had  a  direct  refer- 
ence to  the  coming  struggle.  The  most  miraculous 
events  in  the  Old  Testament,  the  w^onderful  interposition 
of  the  Lord  in  behalf  of  his  people,  when  pressed  by  the 
enemy,  were  received  with  enthusiasm  by  the  soldiers 
and  applied  to  themselves. 
10* 


226  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 


THE    KING    SEIZED. 


The  next  day,  when  parliament  assembled,  anxiety 
sat  on  every  countenance ;  for,  coiled  around  it,  lay  the 
indignant  army ;  while  a  whisper  passed  round  the 
House,  that  the  king  had  been  seized,  and  carried  to 
Hurst  Castle.  This  was  true — four  days  before,  or 
the  next  night  after  the  commissioners  left  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  Charles  was  seized  at  Newport,  where  the  con- 
ference had  been  held,  and  carried  from  the  island 
across  to  the  beach,  and  imprisoned  in  Hurst  Castle — 
a  stronghold  that  stood  frowning  over  the  sea.  It  was 
a  dark  and  stormy  night,  w^hen  the  republicans  landed 
on  the  island;  but  their  arrival  was  soon  known,  and 
their  purpose  discovered  by  the  king's  friends.  The 
Earl  of  Lindsey,  Duke  of  Richmond,  and  Colonel 
Edw^ard  Cook,  urged  him  to  escape  instantly.  Cook 
mounted  in  the  driving  rain,  and  rode  at  the  peril  of 
his  life  around  the  coast,  to  Carisbrook,  to  see  what  was 
going  on.  On  his  return,  at  midnight,  he  found  the 
king's  quarters  surrounded  with  soldiers — the  smoke  of 
their  gun-matches,  carried  by  the  damp  air,  into  his 
very  apartments.  It  was  a  sad  spectacle  the  three 
friends  and  the  king  presented  there  alone,  in  the  stormy 
midnight,  discussing  the  perils  which  surrounded  them. 
Richmond  and  Lindsey  passionately  entreated  their 
master  to  fly;  while  Cook,  drenched  with  rain,  stood 
silent  and  stern  before  the  fire.  At  length,  Charles 
turned  to  him,  and  asked  his  advice.     He  refused,  at 


1648.]         THE     KING     IN     HURST     CASTLE.  227 

first,  to  give  it;  but,  being  commanded  by  Charles, 
asked,  "  Will  your  majesty  allow  me  to  address  you  a 
question  ?"  He  replied  in  the  affirmative,  when  Cook 
said,  "  Suppose  I  should  not  only  tell  your  majesty,  but 
prove  to  you,  that  the  army  intend  forthwith  to  seize 
you ;  if  I  add  that  I  have  the  pass- word — horses  ready 
at  hand — a  vessel  attending  me,  hourly  expecting  me — 
that  I  am  ready  and  desirous  to  attend  you — that  this 
dark  night  seems  made  on  purpose — that  I  see  no  dif- 
ficulty in  the  thing,  what  would  your  majesty  do?" 
The  king  stood  a  moment  silent  and  thoughtful,  and 
then  replied,  "  No ;  they  promised  me,  and  I  promised 
them :  I  will  not  break  first."  Cook  reminded  him  that 
it  was  the  army,  not  the  parliament,  who  wished  to 
seize  him.  Charles  still  shook  his  head  ;  and  Cook  and 
Lindsey  withdrew,  leaving  him  alone  with  Richmond. 
The  truth  is,  the  king  seemed  never  equal  to  sudden 
and  great  emergencies.  When  called  upon  to  decide 
quick,  and  in  favor  of  desperate  measures,  involving 
his  personal  safety,  and  demanding  great  personal  effort, 
he  invariably  failed.  Once,  only,  at  the  battle  of  Naseby, 
did  he  exhibit  any  of  the  characteristics  of  a  daring, 
self-reliant  man. 

The  next  morning,  he  was  carried  across  to  the 
castle,  and  locked  up  in  a  room  so  dimly  lighted  that 
lamps  were  needed  at  mid-day.  Ireton,  no  doubt,  was 
at  the  bottom  of  this,  as  well  as  the  movement  on  Lon- 
don. Resolute,  daring,  and  inflexible  as  Cromwell,  he 
was  still  more  of  a  republican  ;  and  had  no  reverence 
whatever  for  kingship. 


228  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

This  news,  which  soon  passed  from  rumor  to  open 
announcement,  w^as  not  calculated  to  soothe  the  Pres- 
byterians; and  before  proceeding  to  the  business  for 
which  they  were  assembled,  they  denounced,  in  the 
most  opprobrious  terms,  this  high-handed  measure  of 
the  army  ;  and  passed  a  vote  declaring  that  it  had  been 
executed  without  their  assent  or  knowledge.  The  de- 
bate on  the  motion  respecting  the  king's  concessions 
was  then  resumed,  with  the  determined  resolution,  on 
the  one  hand  to  carry  it  through,  and  on  the  other  to 
defeat  it,  at  all  hazards.  Hour  after  hour,  the  hall  rung 
to  the  loud  and  angry  declamations  of  the  members; 
until  at  length,  late  in  the  night,  after  tw^elve  or  four- 
teen hours'  discussion,  Prynne,  the  famous  Puritan  who 
had  his  ears  twice  cropped  off,  been  put  in  the  stocks, 
fined  and  imprisoned,  arose,  and  spoke  in  behalf  of  the 
motion.*      His   sufferings    for    the    cause    of  liberty ; 

*  He  began  :  "  Mr.  Speaker,  first,  I  would  remove  the  seeming 
prejudices  which  else  may  enervate  what  I  am  to  say.  Some  mem- 
bers, firstly,  have  aspersed  me,  that  I  am  a  royal  favorite,  alluding  to 
the  title  of  one  of  my  works.  All  the  royal  fav,or  I  ever  yet  received 
from  his  majesty  or  his  party,  was  the  cutting  off  of  my  ears,  two 
several  times  one  after  another,  in  a  most  barbarous  manner ;  the  set- 
ting me  upon  three  several  pillories  in  a  disgraceful  manner,  for  two 
hours  at  a  time  :  the  burning  of  my  licensed  books  before  my  face  by 
the  hangman  ;  the  imposing  of  ten  fines  upon  me  of  $5000  a-piece; 
exclusion  from  the  House,  and  court,  and  university  of  Oxford ;  the 
loss  of  my  calling,  almost  nine  years'  space  ;  close  eight  years'  im- 
prisonment, without  pens,  ink,  paper,  or  books,  except  my  Bible, 
and  without  access  of  friends,  or  any  allowance  of  diet  for  my  sup- 
port If  any  member  envy  me  for  such  royal  favors,  I  only  wish  him 
the  same  badges  of  favor;  and  then  he  will  no  more  asperse  me  for  a 
royal  favorite,  or  apostate   from  the  public  cause  " — Pari.  Hist. 


1648.]  pride's   purge.  229 

the  injustice  he  had  received  from  the  hands  of  the 
king ;  and  above  all  his  known  attachment  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  freedom,  gave  great  weight  to  his  address, 
and  doubtless,  turned  the  scale  in  favor  of  the  Presby- 
terians. At  five  o'clock*  in  the  morning,  having  sat 
nearly  twenty-four  hours,  the  motion  was  put  and 
carried,  that  the  king's  concessions  afforded  a  sufficient 
basis  for  a  peace.  One  hundred  and  twenty-nine  were 
in  favor  of  it,  and  eighty-three  against  it — giving  a 
clear  majority  of  forty-six.f 

The  crisis  had  now  come  :  the  king  was  once  more 
to  be  restored ;  and  the  Independents  and  the  army, 
with  Oliver  at  their  head,  were  to  be  given  up  to  the 
vengeance  of  the  Presbyterians  and  royalists. 

pride's  purge. 

That  night  was  one  of  anxious  deliberation  among 
the  officers.  At  length,  they  resolved  to  purge  the 
House  by  force ;  and  a  list  of  the  chief  members  of  the 
Presbyterian  party  was  immediately  made  out.  Next 
morning,  the  city  train-bands  being  discharged  from 
their  duty,  as  guards  of  parhament.  Col.  Rich,  with  a 
regiment  of  horse,  took  possession  of  Palace  yard ;  while 
Col.  Pride,  with  a  regiment  of  foot,  invested  Westmin- 
ster Hall,  closing  every  avenue  to  the  House  of  Com- 

*  Guizot  says  nine  o'clock;  and  makes  out  that  of  the  twenty-foi;r 
hours  which  the  House  sat,  tivelve  of  them  were  consumed  by  Prynne 
alone — evidently  a  mistake. 

t  Guizot  says,  one  hundred  and  forty  and  one  hundred  and  four,  or 
u  majority  of  thirty-six  :  and  a  house  of  244  instead  of  212  members 


230  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

nions.  He  himself  stood  at  the  principal  entrance,  with 
the  list  of  proscribed  members  in  his  hand,  and  Lord 
Grey  of  Groby  by  his  side ;  who  whispered,  as  this  and 
that  one  approached,  "he  is  one  of  them."  "To  the 
queen's  court,"  thundered  out  Pride;  and  the  soldiers 
seized  them  instantly,  and  hurried  them  away.  The 
members  declared  loudly  against  this  breach  of  law; 
the  parliament  appealed  to  Fairfax,  but  to  no  purpose ; 
and  forty-one  were  thus  seized,  and  marched  rather  un- 
ceremoniously to  a  tavern  called  Hell,  where  they  were 
lodged  for  the  night.  The  next  day,  Cromwell  suddenly 
entered  the  House,  walking  arm  in  arm  with  Henry 
Marten,  and  took  his  seat.  Informed  of  what  was 
going  on,  he  had  left  the  army  and  the  reduction  of 
Pontefract  Castle  to  Lambert,  and  hastened  to  London. 
"  Mr.  Speaker,"  said  he,  "  God  is  my  witness,  that  I 
know  nothing  of  what  has  been  doing  in  this  House : 
but  the  work  is  in  hand,  and  now^  we  must  carry 
it  through."  And  it  was  carried  through.  "  Pride's 
Purge,"  as  this  summary  purging  of  parliament  was 
called,  was  continued  this  day,  the  7th,  also,  till  over  a 
hundred  members  were  either  seized,  or  frightened  into 
flight.  Never  before  was  a  majority  so  quickly  reduced 
and  opposition  annihilated. 

The  Independents  had  it  now  their  own  way ;  and 
after  having  voted  thanks  to  Cromwell,  for  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  had  conducted  the  Scottish  cam- 
paign,  revoked  the  recent  acts  of  parliament  respecting 
peace. 

This  was  another   high-handed,  illegal   act,   on   the 


1648.]  pride's    purge  defended.  231 

part  of  the  republicans ;  and  was  done — as  Hugh  Peters 
(Fairfax's  chaplain)  said,  when  asked  by  the  members 
by  what  authority  they  were  arrested — "  hy  the  power  of 
the  sword.''  No  one  pretends  to  find  any  law  for  such 
a  proceeding;  and  whoever  expects  a  revolution  can 
proceed  according  to  law,  expects  what  never  did,  and 
never  can,  happen.  It  is  one  of  the  very  designs  and 
objects  of  a  revolution  to  overturn  authority,  and  in- 
stitute new  rules  and  new  powers.  Yet,  those  who 
suppose  this  attack  on  parliament  was  the  result  of 
wild  phrensy,  or  headlong  enthusiasm,  very  much  mis- 
take the  character  of  the  men  who  planned  it.  Crom- 
well, evidently,  knew  nothing  of  the  movement,  though 
he  declared  it  met  his  approval.  Even  Fairfax,  the 
commander-in-chief,  was  ignorant  of  it.  It  was  Ire- 
ton's  work  throughout,  though  men  of  nearly  equal 
ability  and  daring  were  also  in  the  plot.  It  was 
a  well-discussed  and  deliberate  scheme ;  and,  in  our 
opinion,  justified  by  the  circumstances  of  the  case. 
Here  was  a  king,  whom  nobody  could  trust — who  had, 
in  fact,  not  surrendered  one  jot  of  those  claims,  to  sub- 
stantiate which  he  had  again  deluged  the  kingdom  in 
blood — suddenly  to  be  put  in  power,  and  the  whole 
struggle  to  be  gone  over  wdth  again.  The  Presby- 
terians did  not  believe  in  his  promises  :  the  commis- 
sioners, themselves,  knew  he  did  not  design  to  keep  his 
word,  and  grant  the  concessions  which  had  been 
wrung,  with  such  difnculty,  from  him.  It  was  a  heart- 
less business  throughout ; — on  the  part  of  the  king,  a 
deception  practised  "  to  facilitate"  his   "escape;" — on 


232  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

the  part  of  the  Presbyterians,  a  dishonest  attempt  to 
crush  the  Independents,  who,  with  the  army  on  their 
side,  were  getting  too  strong  for  them.  Tlie  very  con- 
cessions which  they  now  voted  ample,  they  had  again 
and  again  declared  inadmissible.  That  the  parliament 
and  king  would  settle  a  peace  on  this  basis,  no  one 
believed.  The  Presbyterians,  however,  saw  that  they 
must  choose  between  their  own  destruction  and  a  coa- 
lition with  Charles  ;  and  so,  unhesitatingly,  preferred 
the  latter,  reckless  of  the  evils  that  might  flow  from  it. 
But,  how  did  the  matter  present  itself  to  the  republican 
leaders  ?  They  penetrated  the  design,  and  saw  clearly 
that  one  of  three  things  must  be  done.  First,  they  must 
consent  to  be  destroyed,  and  have  the  army  disbanded, 
and  the  country  given  over  to  the  political  intrigues  of  the 
Presbyterians  and  the  king,  trusting  to  providence  or 
fortune  for  the  result ;  or,  in  the  second  place,  resisting 
all  attempts  to  disband  them,  as  they  had  heretofore 
done,  silently  wait  for  events  to  take  their  course,  and 
leave  the  king  and  his  party  to  bring  on  another  bloody 
war ;  or,  in  the  third  place,  do  as  they  did  ?  In  the 
one  case,  they  must  abandon  all  that  for  which  they 
had  been  so  long  struggling,  and  leave  England  to  its 
fate ;  and,  in  the  other,  enter  again  on  all  the  horrors 
of  civil  war.  There  was  no  escape  from  one  or  other  of 
these  monstrous  evils  :  they  were  compelled,  therefore, 
with  their  eyes  open,  to  choose  between  them,  or  resort 
to  violence.  So  long  as  there  w^as  a  possibility  that 
parliament  would  not  push  matters  to  such  an  extrem- 
ity, the  republicans  contented  themselves  with  remon- 


1648.]       THE     REVOLUTION     PROGRESSES.  233 

strances  and  petitions ;  but  as  soon  as  the  vote  was  car- 
ried, and  the  step  taken,  compelling  them  to  look  the 
evils  before  them  directly  in  the  face,  and  make  their 
choice,  they  unhesitatingly  employed  the  only  power  left 
them — the  sword. 

Thus  far,  amid  all  the  enthusiasm  and  fanaticism 
which  pervaded  the  army,  the  leaders  have  shown 
themselves  clear-headed,  wise,  and  prompt ;  but  the 
next  step  exhibits  more  the  wild  and  fierce  revolu- 
tionary spirit — we  mean,  the  execution  of  the  king. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

TRJAJ.    AND     EXECUTION    OF    THE    KING. 

The  King  Brought  from  Hurst  Castle  to  Windsor — His  Impeachment — 
Creation  of  the  High  Court  of  Justice  to  Try  Him — Westminster 
Hall  during  the  Trial — Address  of  President  Eradshaw — Inter- 
ruption of  the  Court  by  Downs — Conduct  of  Cromwell — Sentence 
of  the  King — His  Agitation,  and  Efforts  to  be  Heard — Interview 
with  His  Children — Attempts  to  Save  Charles — Conduct  of  Crom- 
well in  Signing  the  Death-Warrant — The  King's  Execution — 
Cromwell's  Soliloquy  over  the  Corpse — Defence  of  Him  against 
His  Biographers — Ireton  Chief  Actor — Defence  of  Parliament — 
Character  of  the  King. 

Immediately  after  this  "purge"  of  parliament,  peti- 
tions came  poming  in,  to  have  the  king  tried  for  the 
evils  he  had  brought  on  the  realm.  They  were  granted ; 
and  a  detachment,  under  Major  Harrison,  was  sent  to 
Hurst  Castle,  to  bring  him  to  Windsor.  It  arrived  at 
the  castle  at  midnight ;  and  Charles,  aroused  out  of  his 
sleep,  by  the  noise  made  in  lowering  the  draw-bridge, 
rang,  in  alarm,  for  Herbert,  who  slept  in  an  adjoining 
room,  and  sent  him  out  to  inquire  who  had  come.  On 
being  told,  Major  Harrison,  he  became  so  deeply  agitated, 
that  Herbert  wept  in  sympathy.  Charles,  on  witness- 
ing his  emotion,  said,  "I  am  not  afraid;  but  do  you 
not  know  that  this  is  the  man,  who,  1  was  told,  during 
the  last  treaty,  was  to  assassinate  me  ?     This  is  a  place 


1649.]       THE     KING     BROUGHT     TO     TRIAL.  235 

fit  for  such  a  purpose."  But,  when  he  was  informed  that 
the  detachment  had  come  to  take  him  to  Windsor,  he 
was  pacified ;  and,  tw^o  days  after,  under  the  guard  of 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Cobbett,  cheerfully  set  out  for  his 
former  palace,  and  the  scenes  of  his  early  pleasures. 
Lord  Newburgh,  with  whom  he  dined  on  his  way,  en- 
deavored to  persuade  him  to  make  his  escape  on  one  of 
his  fleet  horses;  but  Charles  refused;  and,  December 
23d,  entered  Windsor — the  same  day  on  which  a  motion 
to  impeach  him  was  carried,  and  a  committee  of  thirty- 
eight  appointed  to  make  out  the  charges.  Henry 
Marten  and  Thomas  Scott  were  the  chief  members  of 
the  committee — both  accomplished  men,  able  states- 
men, and  daring  republicans.  On  the  28th,  an  ordi- 
nance for  his  trial  passed  the  lower  House.  On  that 
very  day,  also,  Charles  received  an  order  from  the 
council  of  war,  directing  that  the  ceremonies  of  regal 
state,  which  had  heretofore  been  extended  to  him — 
such  as  being  served  by  a  cup-bearer,  on  bended  knee, 
with  a  chamberlain,  maitre  d'hotel,  esquire  carver,  &:c., 
should  hereafter  be  dispensed  with. 

On  the  first  day  of  the  new  year,  1649,  the  commit- 
tee made  their  report,  accusing  Charles  Stuart,  king  of 
England,  of  high  treason ;  and  the  next  day  sent  the 
charge  and  evidence  to  the  House  of  Lords.  The  lat- 
ter immediately  rejected  them,  and  adjourned  for  a 
week — an  act  the  commissioners  construed  into  an 
abdication  of  their  functions,  and  so  proceeded  to 
try  the  king  without  them.  A  fresh  ordinance  was 
passed   in   the  name  of   the   House  of   Commons,  by 


236  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

which  a  high  court  of  justice,  consisting  of  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty-five  members,  was  created.  Of  these, 
there  were  Viscount  Lisle,  Lord  Grey  of  Groby, 
Lord  Monson,  Fairfax,  Cromwell,  Skippon,  Ireton, 
Marten,  and  all  the  colonels  of  the  army,  three  ser- 
geants-at-law,  five  barristers,  five  aldermen  of  Lon- 
don, one  knight  of  the  Bath,  eleven  baronets,  and  ten 
knights.  Eighty-two  were  members  of  the  House  of 
Commons. 

Such  an  august  court  might  try  the  emperor  of  the 
v^rorld,  and  not  be  accused  of  presumption.  It  met  on 
the  8th  of  January,  and  nominated  its  officers  and 
council.  The  next  day,  a  new,  great  seal — the  seal  of 
the  commonwealth  of  England,  was  ordered  by  the 
House  of  Commons.  The  day  following,  the  high 
court  met,  and  appointed  John  Bradshaw,  a  cousin  of 
Milton's,  sergeant-at-law,  and  chief  justice  of  Chester, 
president.  Perhaps  a  more  fitting  man  could  not  have 
been  chosen  for  this  high  and  responsible  office. 
Learned,  upright,  calm,  grave,  self-collected,  and,  when 
demanded  of  him,  inflexible  and  stern  as  death,  he  was 
w^ell-calculated  to  direct  the  proceedings  of  one  of  the 
most  extraordinary  tribunals  ever  erected  upon  the 
earth. 

Steele,  Coke,  Dr.  Dorislaus,  and  Aske,  were  coun- 
sel for  the  prosecution. 

Everything  being  ready,  the  king  was  privately 
brought  from  Windsor,  on  the  19th  of  January;  and 
the  next  morning,  conducted  by  Harrison,  before  the 
court   assembled  in  Westminster.     The   members   re- 


1649.]  THE    king's    trial.  237 

duced  in  numbers,  on  account  of  many  refusing  to  sit 
as  judges,  were  in  private  session  in  the  painted 
chamber,  where  prayer  had  just  been  offered,  w^hen  it 
was  announced  that  tlie  king  was  coming.  Cromwell 
immediately  turned  to  the  court,  and  said,  "  Let  us 
resolve  here,  what  answer  we  shall  give  the  king,  when 
he  comes  before  us ;  for  the  first  question  he  will  ask 
of  us,  will  be,  by  what  authority  and  commission  we 
try  him  ?"*  A  pause  ensued,  when  Marten  rose,  and 
replied,  "  In  the  name  of  the  commons,  and  parlia- 
ment assembled,  and  all  the  good  people  of  England.'' 
Ample  authority  in  times  of  revolution.  They  then 
adjourned  to  Westminster  Hall,  with  Bradshaw  at  their 
head,  preceded  by  sixteen  armed  officers.  Bradshaw, 
dressed  in  a  scarlet  robe,  and  wearing  his  ever-after- 
ward  renowned  broad-brimmed  hat  lined  wdth  steel, 
took  his  seat  in  the  centre  of  the  court,  in  a  scarlet- 
cushioned  chair.  The  members  ranged  themselves  on 
either  side  of  him  on  benches,  covered  with  scarlet  cloth 
— also  keeping  their  hats  on  their  heads.  At  each  ex- 
tremity of* this  long  line  of  republican  judges — sixty- 

*  Guizot,  and  Dr.  d'Aubigne  following  him,  says,  "  he  turned  pale" 
These  writers  contradict  themselves  sadly.  At  one  time,  Cromwell 
is  so  tender  and  faint-hearted,  that  he  turns  pale  at  the  sight  of  the 
king ;  at  another,  so  destitute  of  feeling,  that  he  is  guilty  of  buf- 
foonery when  signing  his  death-warrant;  and  again,  made  of  such 
hardened  material,  that  he,  voluntarily,  goes  to  gaze  and  muse  on  the 
royal  corpse.  It  is  not  likely  that  he  who  had  so  often  charged  home 
on  the  king  in  battle,  turned  pale  to  see  him  pass  the  window, 
guarded  by  soldiers.  The  statement  rests  on  the  testimony  of  a  single 
witness,  given  after  the  restoration,  and  who,  doubtless,  mistook  hia 
own  pallor  fur  that  of  Cromwell. 


238  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

nine  in  number,  stood  men  at  arms,  a  little  in  advance, 
so  as  to  command  a  view  of  the  whole.  Below  the 
president,  beside  a  table  covered  with  a  rich  Turk- 
ish cloth,  on  which  lay  the  sword  of  state  and  mace, 
sat  the  two  clerks  of  the  court. 

As  soon  as  the  great  gates  of  the  hall  were  thrown 
open,  the  crowd  poured  in,  and  filled  all  the  space  be- 
low, together  with  the  galleries  allotted  to  the  spec- 
tators. Silence  being  restored,  the  President  said, 
"  Sergeant,  bring  in  the  prisoner !"'  A  moment  of 
breathless  suspense  followed;  and  then,  Charles  Stuart, 
of  England,  walked  slowly,  calmly  in,  guarded  by 
thirty-three  officers ;  and  after  gazing  sternly  and  coldly 
on  the  crowd  and  court,  with  his  hat  on,  took  his  seat  at 
the  bar,  facing  the  judges.  The  next  moment  he  rose 
again  to  his  feet,  and  turning  round,  looked  down  the 
vast  hall — first,  on  the  guards  ranged  in  order  on  the 
left ;  and  then,  upon  the  sea  of  heads  that  crowded  the 
space  to  the  right,  without  saying  a  word,  or  betray- 
ing the  least  agitation  or  fear.  As  he  again  turned 
to  the  court,  his  eye  fell  on  the  new  escut(?heon  of  the 
commonwealth,  on  either  side  of  which  sat  Oliver  Crom- 
well and  Marten.  That  insignia  of  the  new  common- 
wealth, between  two  such  men,  spoke  volumes  to  the 
king ;  and  he  sank  in  his  seat. 

Bradshaw  then  rose,  and  said,  "  Charles  Stuart,  king 
of  England,  the  commons  of  England,  in  parliament 
assembled,  taking  notice  of  the  effusion  of  blood  in  the 
land,  w^hich  is  fixed  on  you,  as  the  author  of  it,  and 
whereof  you  are  guilty,  have  resolved  to  bring  you  to 


1649.]  THE    king's   defence.  239 

a  trial  and  judgment ;  and,  for  this  cause,  the  tribunal 
is  created.  The  charge  will  now  be  read  by  the  soli- 
citor-general." The  attorney-general.  Coke  (or,  as  some 
have  it,  Cook),  then  rose  to  read  it,  when  the  king 
tapped  him  on  the  shoulder  with  his  cane,  exclaiming, 
"  Silence !"  in  a  tone  of  high  command.  The  gold  head 
of  the  cane  was  knocked  off  in  the  action,  and  the 
king  himself  was  compelled  to  stoop  and  pick  it  up, 
His  superstitious  nature  immediately  construed  it  into 
an  evil  omen ;  and,  for  a  moment,  his  working  features 
revealed  the  agitation  of  his  breast.  Coke  then  went 
on  to  the  end  without  interruption,  charging  him  with 
abuse  of  power,  with  tyranny,  and  shedding  the  blood  of 
his  people,  in  short,  of  high  treason.  The  king  sat  the 
while  motionless  as  marble,  save  as  the  words  "tyrant, 
traitor,  murderer,"  smote  his  ear,  when  a  slight  smile 
passed  over  his  features.  The  reading  being  finished, 
the  president  said,  "You  have  heard  the  charge — the 
court  awaits  your  answer."  Charles  replied,  that  he  did 
not  recognise  the  authority  by  which  he  was  arraigned 
— that  it  was  but  a  short  time  since  he  was  negotiating 
a  treaty  with  parliament,  and  now  he  was  arrested  as  a 
culprit — that  two  houses  were  necessary  to  a  parlia- 
ment, but  he  saw  none  of  the  lords  here — that  a  king 
was  also  necessary  to  a  parliament,  and  when  con- 
vinced of  the  legality  of  the  tribunal  before  him,  he 
would  answer,  and  not  before.  The  president  replied, 
that  it  was  by  the  authority  of  "the  people  of  Eng- 
land;" authority  sufficient  for  them,  if  not  for  him  ;  and 


240  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

that  he  must  plead  to  the  charge,  or  it  would  be  taken 
'pro  confesso. 

The  whole  time  of  sitting  was  spent  in  arguing  the 
authority  of  the  court.  On  Monday  it  met  again,  and 
this  and  the  next  day  were  occupied  in  the  same  fruit- 
less altercation.  The  fourth  and  fifth  days  the  court 
sat  in  the  painted  chamber,  and  was  employed  in 
hearing  witnesses.  On  the  evening  of  the  last  day 
(the  25th),  a  vote  was  passed  declaring  the  king  to  be  a 
traitor,  tyrant,  and  enemy  to  his  country ;  and  a  com- 
mittee of  seven,  Marten,  Harrison,  Say,  Ireton,  Scot, 
Lisle,  and  Love,  were  appointed  to  draw  up  the  sen- 
tence. The  next  day,  the  form  of  the  charge*  was  dis- 
cussed with  closed  doors,  and  finally  adopted.  The  fol- 
lowing morning,  the  court  met  for  the  last  time,  and  the 
king  was  brought  in  to  receive  sentence.  As  he  passed 
Lhrough  one  of  the  entrances,  some  soldiers  cried 
out  "justice,"  "execution;"  but  one  of  them  upon 
guard  said,  "God  bless  you,"  for  which  his  officer 
struck  him.  "  The  punishment,"  said  the  king,  mildly, 
"  methinks  exceeds  the  offence. "f 

*  See  Appendix. 

t  Guizot  has  a  long  account  of  the  insults  heaped  on  the  king,  such 
as  puffing  tobacco-smoke  in  his  face,  and  mocking  him  in  brutal  lan- 
guage ;  some  writers  have  declared  that  the  soldiers  spit  in  his  face. 
The  details  of  Guizot  on  this  point,  are,  to  say  the  least,  apocryphal. 
What  might  have  been  said  in  the  crowd,  out  of  hearing  of  the  king 
and  his  guard,  is  entirely  irrelevant:  coarse  jokes  are  heard  around 
every  scaffold  and  gallows,  and,  doubtless,  were  uttered  during  the 
king's  trial,  and  these  have  been  preserved  and  very  easily  made  to 
have  been  uttered  to  his  face.  But  Herbert,  the  king's  constant  atten- 
dant, makes  no  mention  of  these  brutalities  in  his  account  of  the  matter 


1649.]  DISORDER     OF     THE     COURT.  241 

Being  again  at  the  bar,  Charles  attempted  to  speak, 
but  was  sternly  silenced  by  the  president,  who  bade  him 
first  listen  to  the  court  and  then,  afterwards,  before 
sentence  was  pronounced,  he  should  have  hberty  to  say 
what  he  wished.  The  king  then  requested  to  be  heard 
in  the  painted  chamber  by  both  Houses  of  Parhament, 
assembled,  "  on  a  proposal,"  he  added,  "  which  is  of  far 
more  importance  to  the  peace  of  the  kingdom  and  the 
liberty  of  my  subjects  than  to  my  own  preservation." 
Some  great  and  secret  meaning  was  supposed  by  many 
to  be  conveyed  in  this  language,  and  the  whole  assem- 
bly and  court  became  at  once  deeply  agitated :  some 
thought  that  he  designed  to  abdicate  in  flivor  of  his 
son ;  but,  if  so,  he  would  doubtless  have  hinted  his 
wishes,  and  also  afterwards  have  mentioned  the  fact 
to  his  friends.  It  was,  probably,  simply  a  last  and  des- 
perate effort  to  escape  his  doom,  by  casting  himself  on 
the  two  Houses  of  Parliament.  The  discussion  of  the 
request  by  the  court  threw  it  into  disorder;  and  at 
length,  one  of  the  members.  Col.   Downes,   arose  and 

except  the  one  specified  above,  which  he  certainly  would  have  done 
had  they  occurred.  In  fact,  he  says,  that  the  king,  after  retiring  on 
the  last  day  after  the  trial,  asked  him  if  he  heard  the  cry  for  justice. 
He  replied  that  he  did,  and  wondered  at  it.  '-J  did  not"  said  the  king  ; 
*'  it  was,  doubtless,  given  to  please  the  officers,  for  whom  the  soldiers 
would  do  the  like,  were  there  occasion."  But  Herbert  would  not  have 
given  such  minute  particulars  of  this  and  yet  left  out  grosser  insults. 
The  truth  is,  the  whole  account,  as  given  by  royalist  writers  after  the 
restoration,  is  unworthy  of  credit.  The  scene  in  the  gallery,  too,  re- 
sulting from  the  bold  interruption  of  Fairfax's  wife,  is  stated  by  Gui- 
zot  to  have  occurred  on  the  last  day  of  the  trial,  while  Hume  puts  it 
on  the  first. 

11 


242  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

declared  he  could  not  agree  to  the  sentence,  and  re- 
quested the  court  to  adjourn  and  hear  him.  With  the 
same  dignified  composure  which  had  characterized  all 
his  acts  as  president  of  that  body,  Bradshaw  arose  and 
said,  "  If  any  one  of  the  court  be  not  satisfied  the  court 
must  adjourn,"  and  the  members  immediately  retired  to 
a  private  room.  No  sooner  were  they  by  themselves, 
than  Cromwell  is  said  to  -have  assailed  Downes  with 
harsh  upbraidings  for  having  disturbed  the  court.  The 
latter  defended  himself,  declaring  that  all  they  wanted 
were  good  guarantees  from  the  king  and  they  ought  to 
hear  his  proposals.  Cromwell  replied,  that  he  did  not 
know  he  had  to  do  v/ith  the  hardest  man  on  the  earth — 
that  his  scruples  about  not  receiving  the  king's  pro- 
position were  a  farce,  and  his  motive  was  to  save  his  old 
master.  The  truth  is,  he  saw  through  poor  Downes, 
and  detected  in  his  agitation  simply  the  quailing  of  a 
weak  and  irresolute  spirit.  After  half  an  hour's  de- 
liberation, the  court  returned  to  the  hall,  and  told  the 
king  that  his  proposition  had  been  rejected.  It  fell  like 
the  blow  of  a  hammer  on  the  unhappy  monarch,  for  he 
saw  his  last  hope  departing. 

Bradshaw  now  asked  him  if  he  had  anything  more  to 
say.  He  replied  that  he  had  nothing  more.  The  for- 
mer then  rose  to  pronounce  sentence ;  but  before  he  or- 
dered the  clerk  to  read  it,  he  made  a  long  speech  to  the 
king,  in  which  he,  without  insult,  and  yet  without  fear, 
went  through  a  searching  and  terrible  review  of  the  past 
few  years — of  his  course  with  parliament  and  with  the  na- 
tion.    He  exposed  his  tyranny,  his  falsehood,  and  deceit; 


1649.]  THE     SENTENCE.  243 

showed  how  he  had  compelled  his  subjects  to  resistance, 
and  charged  sternly  home  upon  him  the  blood  shed  in  the 
two  civil  wars  which  had  finally  prostrated  his  power. 
It  was  a  thrilling  and  awful  scene,  and  new  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  world — a  republican  judge,  in  the  presence 
and    by   the   authority   of   "  the  people''  pronouncing 
a  verdict  of  guilt  against   a  king  in  the  heart  of  his 
own   realm.     Every   word   uttered   without    agitation 
or   haste,   was  heard   distinctly   to    the    farthest    end 
of  the  vast  and  crowded  hall.     A  breathless  interest 
sealed  every  tongue ;  and  as  the  relentless  judge  pro- 
ceeded to  recount  the  enormities  the  king  had  been 
guilty  of,  a  slight  agitation  was  visible  in  the  dark  mass 
of  republican  heads ;  and  eyes  grew  sterner,  and  looks 
more  resolute.     A  solemnity,  like  that  of  the  grave,  sat 
on  the  countenances  of  the  judges,  as  they  there,  in  the 
person  of  their  president,  declared  before  the  world  the 
"  sovereignty  of  the  people,"  and  threw  down  "  the  head 
of  a  king  as  the   gage    of  the  battle,"  they  w^ould   fight 
to  maintain  it.     And  there  sat  the  king,  at  length  fully 
aroused  by  the  decree  made  out  against  him,  and  which 
till   lately  he   did   not   believe  his  enemies  dare   pro- 
nounce.     Grave   as    the    judge — his    luxuriant    hair, 
turned  slightly  grey,  falling  gracefully  around  a  coun- 
tenance on  which  misfortune  had  made  sad  inroads — • 
he   manifested   no  emotion  till  near  the  close  of  the 
address,  when   his  features  became  suddenly  agitated. 
His   lost    realm,   his    wife,   his    children,    the    bloody 
scaffold,  passed  in  terrible  distinctness  before  him — and 
the  firm  monarch  shook. 


244  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Bradshaw  having  finished,  he  ordered  the  clerk  to 
read  the  sentence.  The  king  v\^ould  have  interrupted 
him,  but  Bradshaw  arrested  him,  and  the  sentence  was 
read.  Not  a  murmur — not  a  sound  broke  the  death- 
like silence,  that  had  fallen  on  the  assembly.  Charles, 
however,  again  attempted  to  speak,  exclaiming,  "  Will 
you  hear  me  a  word  ?"'  "Sir,"  replied  Bradshaw,  "you 
are  not  to  be  heard  after  the  sentence."  '•'  No,  sir  ?" 
imploringly  asked  the  king.  "  No,  sir,  by  your  favor !" 
was  the  cold  reply ;  followed  by,  "  Guards,  withdraw  the 
prisoner!"  For  the  first  time  throughout  his  trial, 
Charles  lost  that  self-possession,  and  calm  dignity,  w^hich 
had  extorted  the  admiration  even  of  his  enemies.  For 
a  moment,  human  nature  gave  way — the  man  and 
the  father  triumphed  over  the  king,  and  in  a  penitent 
and  humble  tone,  he  cried  out,  "  I  may  speak  after  the 
sentence,  by  your  favor,  sir — I  may  speak  after  the 
sentence,  ever  hy  your  favor?''  "Hold!"  sternly  inter- 
rupted the  inflexible  judge,  and  made  a  sign  to  the  guards, 
who  approached.  "  The  sentence,  sir,"  agonizingly 
exclaimed  the  king;  "/  say,  sir,  I  do — "  "Hold!" 
again  broke  from  the  pallid  lips  of  the  president,  and  the 
condemned  and  desolate  king  w^as  hurried  away,  saying, 
"I  am  not  sufiered  to  speak.  Expect  what  justice 
other  people  will  have." 

This  trying  scene  over,  Charles  was  himself  again. 
Only  three  days  were  to  intervene  between  his  sentence 
and  death;  and  finding  that  all  that  time  would  be 
necessary  to  prepare  himself  for  his  doom,  he  gave 
orders  to  have  his  friends  refused  admittance,  that  his 


1649.]        SIGNS    THE     DEATH-WARRANT.  245 

last  hours  might  not  be  disturbed.  Bishop  Juxon  was 
allowed  to  attend  him,  and  free  permission  given  him  to 
see  whomsoever  he  desired.  He  wished  to  see  only 
his  children — and  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  and  Duke 
of  Gloucester,  the  former  twelve,  and  the  latter  eight 
years  of  age — they  being  the  only  ones  near  him — 
were  brought  to  his  prison.  The  interview  was  touch- 
ing in  the  extreme.  After  giving  his  last  advice, 
and  blessing  them,  he  rose  and  ordered  Juxon  to  have 
them  removed ;  while,  to  hide  his  grief,  he  stood  with 
his  face  pressed  close  against  the  window — the  tears 
streaming  from  his  eyes.  But  the  sobs  of  the  chil- 
dren, as  they  passed  through  the  door,  were  too  much 
for  his  parental  heart,  and  turning  suddenly  round,  he  ran 
up  to  them,  and  snatched  them  to  his  breast,  v/hile  they,  in 
turn,  loaded  him  with  endearing  caresses.  At  length, 
tearing  himself  away,  he  saw  the  door  close  on  them 
for  ever,  and  then  fell  on  his  knees  and  began  to  pray. 
The  worst  struggle  was  now  over,  and  he  prepared  to 
meet  his  fate  with  composure. 

In  the  meantime,  it  was  with  difficulty  that  the  sig- 
natures of  the  judges  to  the  death-warrant  could  be 
obtained  :  many  hesitated  to  place  their  names  to  a 
document  which  might  cover  them  and  their  fami- 
lies with  lasting  disgrace  and  ruin.  At  length,  fifty- 
nine  signed  it — Oliver  Cromwell  being  the  third.*  It  is 
said  on  pretty  good  authority,  that  when  he  had  written 
his  name,  he  drew  the  pen  across  Marten's  face,  besmear- 
ing  it  with  ink;  which  practical  joke  was  returned  by  tha 

*  Vide  Appendix  III 


246  O  L  r  V  E  R     CROMWELL. 

latter.  This  has  been  brought  forward  by  some,  to 
prove  the  inhumanity  and  brutality  of  Cromwell.*  But 
there  are  only  a  few,  however,  even  of  his  worst  ene- 
mies, who  venture  to  charge  him  with  being  inhuman. 
This  singular  act  might  have  been  committed  in  a 
fit  of  desperation,  to  throw  off  the  burden  which  was 
crushing  him  to  the  earth :  but  more  probably  to  break 
up  the  apathy  and  awe  which  had  fallen  on  the  m.em- 
bers.  It  was  difficult  to  persuade  them  to  affix  their 
signatures  to  the  sentence  :  for  it  was,  in  fact,  commit- 
ting a  deed,  the  awfulness  of  which  we  cannot  nov/ 
appreciate.  As  Carlyle  says  :  "  the  truth  is,  no  modern 
reader  can  conceive  the  then  atrocity,  ferocity,  un- 
speakability,  of  the  act.  Alas,  if  in  these  irreverent 
times  of  ours,  all  the  kings  of  Europe  were  to  be  cut  in 
pieces  at  one  swoop,  and  flung  in  heaps  in  St.  Mar- 
garet's Churchyard  on  the  same  day,  the  emotion  would, 
in  strict  arithmetical  truth,  be  small  in  comparison  ! 
We  know  it  not,  the  atrocity  of  the  English  regicides — 
shall  never  know  it."  The  regicides  felt  all  this  ;  and 
Cromwell,  who  saw  that  to  flinch  or  waver  then  w^ould 
be  utter  ruin,  may  have  nerved  himself  to  this  sudden 
Duffoonery,  to  show  that  he,  for  one,  w^as  willing  to  risk 
the  consequences;  and  also  start  those  around  him 
from  their  sombre  mood.  That  it  was  the  result  of 
mere  barbarity,  no  one  but  a  bigot  would  affirm. 
Bloody  as  his  life  was,  his  enemies  dare  not  say  that 

*  Guizot  says,  "  Cromwell  himself,  gay,  noisy,  daring  as  ever,  gave 
way  to  his  usual  coarse  buffoonery" — a  wholesale  statement  as  false 
as  it  is  unworthy  an  impartial  historian 


1649.]      ATTEMPTS     TO     SAVE     THE     KING.  247 

his  nature  was  cruel,  even  Clarendon  clears  him  from 
such  a  charge. 

It  was  to  be  expected  that  strenuous  efforts  would  be 
made  to  save  the  king :  but  whether  the  monarchs  of 
Europe  did  not  believe  the  people  would  carry  things 
to  such  an  extremity,  or  disliked  to  threaten  a  power 
which  the  last   few   years  had   given   them   sufficient 
cause  to  fear,  not  one  of  them  interfered  in  his  behalf 
The    United   Provinces,  a  republic,  alone   interposed. 
His  wife,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  personal  friends, 
strove  nobly  to  save  him.     Scotland  also  sent  commis- 
sioners to  Cromwell,  protesting  against  the  execution. 
Lieutenant-General  Drummond  was  present  at  the  in- 
terview; and  afterwards  stated  that  Cromwell  entered 
into  a  long  discourse  on   the  nature  of  regal  power; 
and    "  had  plainly   the   better   of  them   at    their   own 
weapons  and  upon  their  own  principles."     Fairfax  also 
resolved  to  interfere,  but  knew  not  how  to  do  it  effectu- 
ally :  and  Sir  John  Cromwell,  a  relative  of  Oliver,  then 
in  the   Dutch   service,  arrived  in   all   haste   from    the 
Hague,  bringing  letters  from  the  Princes  of  Wales  and 
Orange,  offering  any  conditions  Cromwell  might  impose, 
if  he  would  spare  the   king.     He  hoped  to  succeed  in 
his    mission,  from   the  fact   that  OHver  had  once  de- 
clared he  would  not  allow  the  royal  head  to  be  touched. 
It  is  said  that  he  urged  on  him  the  disgrace  that  would 
attach  to  his  name,  if  he  persisted ;  and  the  honor  which 
would  accrue,  if  he  would  interpose  between  Charles 
and  the  scaflbld.     Being  somewhat  shaken  in  his  resolu- 
tion, Cromwell   desired  his  cousin  to  wait  till  night  for 


248  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

his  answer.  In  the  meantime,  he  and  his  friends  sought 
by  prayer  w^hat  the  will  of  the  Lord  was ;  and  being 
assured  that  the  death  of  the  king  alone  could  save 
England,  sent  a  messenger  to  Sir  John,  at  midnight, 
informing  him  that  the  Lord  had  confirmed  their  deci- 
sion ;  and  all  further  interference  w^ould  be  fruitless. 

There  is,  doubtless,  some  truth,  and  a  good  deal  of 
error,  in  this  anecdote.  That  Cromwell  and  his  com- 
panions prayed,  is  very  probable  ;  but,  that  the  latter 
was,  for  one  moment,  shaken,  or  endeavored  in  any 
way  to  avert  the  sentence,  is  highly  improbable.  The 
attempt  would  have  been  madness.  The  fierce  repub- 
licans who  had  brought  the  king  to  trial,  were  determined 
to  sacrifice  him,  and  he  could  not  prevent  it.  Besides,  no 
one  ever  knew  this  stern  man  to  swerve  from  a  reso- 
lution once  formed,  especially  on  so  momentous  a 
subject  as  this. 

Another  anecdote,  showing  that  Cromwell  wrote  the 
order  for  the  execution,  because  Colonel  Huncks  dared 
not  do  it,  rests  entirely  on  the  testimony  of  the  latter — 
who,  after  the  former  w^as  dead,  and  the  Stuarts  re- 
stored, had  the  strongest  motives  to  pretend,  that  he 
himself  was  averse  to  the  warrant.  Such  testimony 
should  always  be  taken  with  distrust. 

But,  everything  failed  to  stay  the  terrible  sentence ; 
and  on  the  30th  of  January,  the  execution  took  place. 
The  last  hours  of  Charles,  were  his  best ;  and  he  never 
appeared  so  much  a  king,  as  w^hen  he  mounted  the 
scaffold.  After  forgiving  his  enemies — praying  in  the 
presence  of  the  awe-struck  multitude,  and  declaring  his 


24.9 


^649.]  THE     EXECUTION. 

confidence  that  he  was  going  from  a  corruptible,  to  an 
incorruptible,  crown,  he  lay  calmly  down,  and  putting 
aside  his  clustering  hair,  himself  gave  the  signal  to 
strike.  The  next  moment,  the  bleeding  head  of  Charles 
Stuart  was  held  aloft  by  a  man  in  a  mask,*  who  ex- 
claimed, "  This  is  the  head  of  a  traitor !"  A  loud  groan 
from  the  assembled  multitude,  was  the  only  response, 
and  the  mournful  tragedy  was  over. 

There  is  another  anecdote  of  Cromwell,  connected 
with   this   melancholy  event,   which  Hume,  and  most 
other  historians,  have  given  as  true;  that  while  the  exe- 
cution was  going  on,  Cromwell,  Ireton,  and  Harrison, 
(some   say   Ireton    and    Harrison,)    were    engaged   in 
prayer  with  Fairfax,  to  keep  him  in  ignorance  of  it  till 
all  was  over.    This  piece  of  knavish  hypocrisy  has  been 
told  so  frequently,  that  it  is  generally  considered  a  fact. 
To  say  nothing  of  the  ridiculous  supposition,  that  Fair- 
fax  did  not  know  the  day,  nay,  even  the  hour,  of  the 
royal  execution,  when  all  the  world'  knew  it ;  such  a 
childish  proceeding,  on   the  part  of  Cromwell  and  his 
friends,   is   too  absurd    to    be    entertained  for    a   mo- 
ment    If,  however,  any  wish  for  evidence,  they  will 
find  it   in    the  report  of  the  ambassadors  of  Holland, 
to    their    government,    in    which    they   declare,    that 
about  twelve   o'clock,   on    the  day  of  the    execution, 
they  had  an  interview  with  Fairfax,  to  persuade  him,' 
at  the    last   moment,  to   grant  a  reprieve   if    nothing  i 
more;  and  departed  with  the  hope,  that  they  had  suc^ 

*  The  executioner  was  also  masked,  and  dressed  in  the  guise  of 
a  sailor. 

II* 


250  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

ceeded :  but,  on  entering  the  street,  they  saw  that  all 
the  preparations  for  the  catastrophe  were  made,  and 
the  king  was  expected  every  moment  to  appear.*  In  a 
few  minutes  he  did  appear,  and  ascended  the  scaffold ; 
so  that  standard  historians,  in  adopting  the  slander, 
make  out  that  Cromwell  and  his  friends  were  hypocriti- 
caly  praying  with  Fairfax,  to  conceal  the  approaching 
death  of  the  king  from  him,  at  the  same  time  the  com- 
missioners from  Holland  were  urgins;  him  to  make  no 
delay  to  interpose  his  power  to  stay  the  execution.  But, 
considering  all  the  circumstances  in  the  case — that  the 
death  of  the  king  was  compared  to  the  crucifixion  of 
Christ ;  also,  that  at  the  restoration,  the  greatest  hbel- 
lers  of  Cromwell  were  the  most  liberally  rewarded — it 
is  not  so  strange  that  these  false  statements  have  crept 
into  history.  The  wonder  is,  that  more  plausible  and 
more  damning  ones  have  not  been  invented.  When 
mahce,  hate,  and  selfishness,  not  only  unrestrained,  but 
fostered  into  hugest  vigor,  by  a  rotten  government,  can 
lay  no  heavier  charges  on  an  enemy,  than  those  brought 
against  Cromwell,  his  character  must  be  pure,  straight- 
forward, and  open  to  an  astonishing  degree.  We  ven- 
ture to  say,  no  other  man  ever  stood  in  his  position, 
and  escaped  so  lightly. 

There  seems  good  ground  for  believing  that  he  went 
to  see  the  king's  body  after  it  was  deposited  in  the 
coffin.  Bowtell,  a  private  soldier,  who  was  on  guard  at 
the  time,  says,  that  Cromwell  endeavored  to  remove  the 
lid  with  his  staff;  but,  not   succeeding,  took    his  (the 

*  Vide  Appendix  XV.,  to  Guizot's  English  Revolution. 


1649.]      GAZES     ON     THE     KINg's     CORPSE.  251 

soldier's)  sword,  and  with  the  hilt  forced  it  open,  and 
gazed  long  and  steadily  on  the  corpse.  Then,  as  if 
speaking  to  himself,  murmured  in  solemn  accents, 
"  This  was  a  well-constituted  frame,  and  promised  a  long 
life."  Such  a  scene  would  be  worthy  the  pencil  of  the 
most  gifted  painter.  The  stern  republican,  gazing  fix- 
edly on  the  body  of  his  dead  king!  What  strange 
thoughts  swept  over  his  soul,  as  he  contemplated  the 
lifeless  form  in  which  so  lately  lay  embodied  the  sove- 
reign power  of  England.  The  past,  with  its  turbulent 
battle-fields  and  wild  commotions,  rushed  over  his 
memory,  while  fathomless  abysses  opened  in  the  untried 
future.  Through  the  blood  of  thousands  of  men — of 
nobles,  of  priests,  and  last  of  all,  of  the  king  himself — 
he  had  waded  heavily  onward ;  and  now,  what  was  the 
next  step  before  him  ?  Return  was  hopeless.  On  he 
must,  at  all  hazards.  With  the  tide,  if  still  forward — 
sternly  breasting  it,  if  refluent,  his  course  was  clear ; 
but  the  end,  alas!  that  was  veiled  in  darkness.  Per- 
haps, like  the  severed  trunk  before  him,  he  would  yet 
be  thus  gazed  on  by  his  enemies.* 

The  king's  death  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  over  the 
world.  It  was  a  new  page  opened  in  its  history,  which 
every  one  trembled  to  read.     At  that  time,  mere  am- 

*  Bowtell  testifies  that  he  interrupted  Cromwell  in  the  midst  of 
his  reflections,  as  he  gazed  on  the  king,  asking  him  what  government 
they  were  to  have.  *'  The  same  that  there  was"  he  replied ;  and  still 
contemplated  the  lifeless  body.  Whether  Cromwell  was  a  man  to 
brook  in  those  circumstances,  so  rude  an  interruption  from  a  private 
soldier,  or,  in  such  a  mood,  was  likely  to  be  interrupted  by  one  who 
knew  his  character,  I  leave  ofthers  to  judge. 


252  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

bitious  men  would  not  have  dared  to  commit  such  an 
act — it  needed  higher  motives — a  strong,  rehgious  en- 
thusiasm, ever  proclaiming  trumpet-tongued,  that  it 
was  the  will  of  God,  and  crying,  "  Woe  to  him  that 
shrinks  in  the  day  of  evil !"  * 

The  death  of  Charles  has  been  almost  universally 
laid  at  the  door  of  Cromwell,  yet,  for  no  other  reason 
that  w^e  can  see,  except,  that  he  eventually  mounted  to 
his  place.  He  had  less  to  do  with  it  than  almost  any 
other  man  in  the  Independent  party.  Indeed,  he  seem- 
ed to  have  forecast  such  an  event  and  struggled  man- 
fully to  prevent  it.  He  knew,  two  years  before,  that 
the  ultra  republicans  in  the  army  were  bent  on  a  re- 
public and  would  be  satisfied  with  nothing  less  than  one. 
It  was  this  knowledge  which,  as  before  remarked, 
prompted  him  to  negotiate  with  the  king,  and  cling  to 
the  hope  that  he  would  concede  to  the  proposals  made 
him,  and  establish  the  government  so  seriously  threat- 
ened with  total  overthrow^  until  he  well  nigh  lost  his 
hold  on  the  army  for  ever.  He  stood  up  against  this 
terrible  under-current  of  democracy,  which  was  bearing 
everything  to  chaos,  till  he  like  to  have  gone  down 
himself  in  the  flood.  And,  when  the  second  civil  war 
broke  out,  he  was  glad  to  get  away  from  the  strife  of 
factions  and  again  meet  the  enemy  in  the  field.  He 
had  but  little  time  while  in  Wales,  or  fighting  with  the 
Scotch  at  Preston,  to  attend  to  matters  around  parlia- 
ment. Every  step  for  its  overthrow,  and  to  bring  the 
king  to  trial,  had  been  taken  during  his  absence.  On 
his   return,  he   saw  at  once    how   matters  stood — the 


1649.]  DEFENCE     OF     HIS     COURSE.  253 

crisis  had  come,  and  he  must  act.  He  threw  his  in- 
fluence with  his  friends  and  the  army,  and  if  he  had 
done  otherwise  he  would  have  been  ten  times  more 
a  traitor  and  hypocrite  than  his  enemies  endeavor  to 
make  him  out.  True,  he  found  his  party  violent,  but 
what  had  made  them  so  ?  Things  had  been  pushed  to 
extremities,  but  who  had  pushed  them  ?  Not  he — not 
his  friends,  but  his  enemies,  by  being  content  with 
nothing  less  than  his  and  their  destruction.  Even 
Bishop  Burnet  declares  that,  "  Ireton  was  the  person 
who  drove  it  on  (the  death  of  the  king),  for  Cromwell 
was  all  the  while  in  some  suspense  about  it.  Ireton 
had  the  spirit  and  temper  of  a  Cassius  in  him,  he  stuck 
at  nothing  that  might  have  turned  England  to  a  Com- 
monwealth." He  might  have  added,  that  the  arviy 
drove  it  on,  fully  resolved  on  punishing  the  "chief  de- 
linquent," as  they  termed  him.  It  was  this  that  made 
Cromwell  declare  in  parliament  that  he  would  have 
regarded  the  man  who  proposed  the  deposition  of  the 
king  as  the  greatest  traitor  and  rebel  in  the  world; 
"  but  since  the  providence  of  God  had  cast  this  upon 
them,  he  could  not  but  submit  to  providence,  though  he 
was  not  yet  prepared  to  give  his  advice."  The  irresisti- 
ble force  of  circumstances  he  construed  into  a  provi- 
dence. Besides  the  cavaliers  and  Presbyterians  left 
him  no  choice — he  must  either  surrender  his  army,  and 
his  principles,  or  seize  the  power  they  so  unjustly  wield- 
ed. Slandered,  while  absent ;  undermined,  when  in 
the  very  act  of  saving  his  country  at  the  risk  of  his 
own    life,  he  was  compelled  to  turn  at  bay,  and  nobly 


254  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

defending  himself,  endeavor  to  force  his  assailants  to 
moderation  and  justice.  Failing  in  this,  he  fell  in 
wrath  upon  them,  and  his  w^as  not  a  hand  to  strike 
twice.  His  history  was  that  of  the  army  and  of  the 
Independent  leaders  in  parliament,  so  that  he  is  only  one 
among  a  multitude  responsible  for  the  death  of  the  king. 

But  was  the  party,  itself,  of  which  he  was  only  a 
member,  guilty  of  so  great  a  wrong  ?  ""'Regicide !"  is 
an  ugly  epithet,  but  it  sounds  much  worse,  we  imagine, 
in  Europe  than  in  this  country.  The  doctrine  that 
"  the  king  can  do  no  wrong,"  has  no  adherents  here, 
and  is  fast  getting  obsolete  in  the  civilized  world.  It  is 
curious  to  hear  the  outcry  made  when  a  prince  of  the 
blood  falls ;  while  a  thousand  men,  each  better  and 
nobler  than  he,  can  be  slain  and  no  surprise  expressed. 
Thus,  the  murder  of  the  Due  D'Enghien  horrified  Chris- 
tendom, and  loaded  Bonaparte  with  opprobrium ;  while 
the  attempts  to  assassinate  the  latter  by  the  Bourbons 
shocked  no  one's  sensibilities.  His  murder  would  have 
been  a  thing  of  course,  and  the  perpetrator,  doubtless, 
received  a  rich  reward.  So,  the  execution  of  Charles, 
who  accounted  the  rights  of  his  people  as  nothing,  was 
a  damning  act ;  but  had  he  hung  Cromwell,  his  superior 
both  in  virtue  and  intellect,  high  as  Haman,  it  would 
have  excited  the  horror  of  none  of  these  royalist 
writers.  Now,  we  cannot  sympathise  in  these  dis- 
tinctions— we  think,  that  a  whole  army  of  such  men  as 
Charles  I.  or  11.  had  better  die  than  one  Cromvv^ell. 

The  trial  and  condemnation  of  the  king,  every  one 
will  admit,  were  acts  of  violence,  and  done  against  all 


1649.]       DEFENCE        OF     THE     REGICIDES.  255 

precedent,  and  in  contempt  of  all  recognised  judicial 
forms.     But,  it  is  not  to  be  expected,  that  revolutionary 
acts,  will  be  constitutional  ones.     The  question  of  right 
and  wrong,  is  to  be  settled  farther  hack— was  the  revo- 
lution itself  justifiable?     If  the  oppression   and  injus- 
tice were  so  great,  as  to  demand  the  resistance  of  the 
people,  then  the  character  of  all  after  acts  is  to  be 
determined  by  the  necessities  of  the  case,  and  not  by 
constitutions  or  judicial  forms.     The  very  term  revo- 
lution pre-supposes  the  overthrow  of  these,  and  the  in- 
stitution of  new  powers,  and   new  authority,  in  their 
places.     If  the  revolution  is  justifiable,  then  everything 
necessary  to  secure  the  object  for  which  it  was  set  in 
motion,  is  justifiable.     Mark,  we  say  ''necessary;"  not 
all  that  is  esteemed  so.     The   overthrow  of  thrones- 
kings  sent  fugitive  over  the  world— the  destruction  of 
feudal  systems,  may  seem  daring  and  terrible  to  loyalty; 
but  they  are  matters   of   course.      When  once  it  is 
settled  that  a  revolution  is  based  on  the  eternal  prin- 
ciples  of  truth  and  justice,  and  demands   nothing  but 
the  inalienable  rights  of  man,  then  its  authority  is  para- 
mount to  all  other.     Now,  we  claim  all   this  for  the 
English  revolution.     First,  reformation  was  sought,  and 
in  a  legal  way— through  parliament.*     The  guarantees 
and  rights  demanded,  were  perfectly  just  and  proper ; 
and  if  they  had  been  graciously  granted,  no  violence 
would   have   followed.      Lords   and   commons   united, 
and  appealed  to  the  constitution  and  laws  of  England. 
Charles,   false,    treacherous,    and    oppressive,    resisted 

•  A  slight  recapitulation  here,  seems  necessary. 


t^ 


256  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

their  claims — insulted  and  oppressed  the  representatives 
of  the  people,  while  in  discharge  of  their  sacred  duties. 
Frequent  dissolutions,  and  eleven  years  of  arbitrary 
rule,  were  borne  with  patience,  until,  at  last,  the  king 
resorted  to  arms  to  carry  out  his  tyrannical  purposes. 
Then,  parliament  must  either  retract  its  principles, 
forgo  its  claims,  and  the  members  prove  false  to  their 
oath,  and  to  the  people  of  England,  or  defend  their 
rights  by  arms.  Thus,  reformation  passed  into  revo- 
lution, or,  rather,  was  forced  into  it  by  the  obdurate 
king.  The  struggle,  once  commenced,  there  was  no 
retreating — one  or  the  other  must  yield.  The  king 
would  not ;  and  so  the  war  went  on,  until  his  ruin  was 
completed.  The  former  could,  at  any  time,  have 
quenched  the  flame  of  civil  war,  and  restored  peace 
by  surrendering  his  foolish  prerogatives,  and  acknow- 
ledging himself  responsible  to  his  subjects ;  but  the 
parliament  could  not  retract,  except  by  proving  re- 
creant to  the  constitution  of  England,  and  the  liberty 
of  the  people.  So  that,  up  to  the  overthrow  of  Charles, 
there  can  be  but  one  opinion  among  those  who  believe 
in  the  sovereignty  of  the  people,  where  lay  the  rights  of 
the  quarrel. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  a  king  who  could  not  be 
trusted,  and  would  not  be  just,  should  be  disposed  of. 
Death,  or  deposition  and  exile;  these  were  the  two 
alternatives.  The  latter,  undoubtedly,  would  have  been 
preferable,  and  perhaps  as  safe ;  for  royalty  was  not 
extinguished  by  clipping  off  one  of  the  branches  ;  while 
the  hardihood  of  the  act  gave  a  character  of  despera- 


1649.]         DEFENCE     OF     THE     REGICIDES.  257 

tion  to  the  revolution,  calculated  to  shake  the  affec- 
tion of  those  who  had  hitherto  defended  it.  Still  we 
cannot  see  anything  so  very  criminal  in  it ;  nor  discern 
the  force  of  the  nice  distinction  men  make  between 
cutting  off  the  king's  head  with  an  axe,  or  taking  him 
out  of  the  world  with  a  cannon-ball.  These  very 
leaders  who  sat  in  judgment  on  their  monarch  had 
often  met  him  in  battle,  and  piled  the  dead  around 
his  person.  They  had  been  called  by  the  supreme 
government  to  bend  their  strength  against  him  on  the 
tented  field,  and  had  sought  him  through  the  doubtful 
fight;  and  thus  through  long  years  of  civil  war  been 
regicides  in  the  eye  of  the  law.  That  they  should 
think  it  no  greater  wrong  to  cut  off  his  head  than  to 
fire  upon  him  in  the  open  field,  ought  not  to  seem  so 
strange.  Besides,  if  a  private  individual,  from  mere 
personal  ambition,  had  trampled  on  constitutional  rights; 
on  parliament ;  on  the  people ;  and  deluged  the  realm 
in  blood,  as  Charles  had  done,  merely  to  sustain  his 
royal  prerogative ;  not  a  tear  would  have  been  shed  over 
his  grave.  So  much  do  outward  circumstances  affect 
our  perceptions  of  justice. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  Charles  was  the  lawful  king  of 
England,  and  looked  upon  the  violence  of  his  subjects  as 
unnatural  and  unjustifiable  rebellion.  He  was  not  a 
tyrant,  like  Nero,  scorning  the  happiness  and  welfare'  of 
his  people,  and  intent  only  on  the  gratification  of  his  sel- 
fish passions.  He  had  done  what  he  supposed  to  be 
right  and  proper :  for,  to  him,  the  preservation  of  the 
royal  dignity  and  power  was  more  important  than  the 


258  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

liberties  of  the  people.  He  was  not  a  traitor;  he  was  not 
a  debased  and  sensual  man,  like  the  son  who  succeeded 
him ;  still  w^e  cannot  but  turn  with  contempt  from  his 
character.  Ahvays  under  the  influence  of  w^eak  minds, 
he  violated  his  sokmn  promise,  and  signed  the  death- 
warrant  of  the  only  really  able  minister  he  ever  possess- 
ed, the  Earl  of  Strafford  ;  and  fixed  a  lasting  stain  on  his 
honor.  Weak  and  irresolute,  he,  nevertheless,  committed 
many  foolish  and  rash  acts ;  and  possessed  all  the  dupli- 
city necessary  to  constitute  an  unprincipled  statesman, 
without  the  shrewdness  indispensable  to  success.  False 
to  his  friends,  and  false  to  his  enemies,  his  own  counsel- 
lors blushed  at  his  hollow-heartedness.  Says  Clarendon, 
in  a  letter  to  Nicolas,  "  Mr.  Secretary,  these  stratagems 
have  given  me  more  sad  hours  than  all  the  misfortunes 
in  war  which  have  befallen  the  king ;  and  look  like 
God's  anger  towards  us."  He  carried  his  deceit  to 
such  an  extent,  that,  in  time,  nobody  would  trust  him. 
He  is  sometimes  called  a  religious  man,  and  claimed  as  a 
martyr  to  Episcopacy ;  yet  there  was  more  superstition 
mingled  with  his  religion  than  with  that  of  Cromwell. 
He  w^ould  give  £500  to  a  conjurer,  to  be  informed 
where  he  should  be  safest ;  and  was  more  alarmed  by 
the  falling  of  the  head  of  his  cane,  on  his  trial,  than  by 
the  stern  aspect  of  his  judges.  His  love  for  Episcopacy 
grew  out  of  his  love  of  monarchy,  of  w^hich  he  regarded  it 
a  chief  support;  indeed,  to  use  his  own  expression, 
*'  stronger  than  that  of  the  army.  Yet  he  went  to  Scot- 
land, and  attended  Presbyterian  meetings;  and  listen- 
ed respectfully  to  the  long  harangues  of  Presbyterian 


1649.]  CHARACTER     OF     CHARLES.  259 

divines,  in  order  to  show  in  what  high  esteem  he  held 
their  forms  of  rehgion  :  he  even  confirmed  the  Scotch 
declaration,  that  to  govern  the  church  by  arch- 
bishops and  bishops,  was  contrary  to  the  word  of 
God.  We  also  find  him  making  large  promises  to 
the  Irish,  equivalent  to  establishing  Papacy  in  Ireland. 
Indeed,  he  went  so  far  in  his  last  treaty  with  the 
Presbyterians  at  Newport,  that  he  consented  to  abol- 
ish archbishops,  deacons,  prebends,  and  canons,  and 
submit  to  the  Presbyterian  form  of  church  govern- 
ment, for  three  years.  And  even  then,  nothing  was  to  be 
be  restored  to  these  bishops  but  the  power  of  ordination ; 
and  that  to  be  used  in  connexion  with  the  advice  of 
the  Presbytery.  Finally,  he  consented  to  renounce  the 
Book  of  Common  Prayer,  asking  only  the  liberty  of  using 
some  other  liturgy  in  his  own  chapel.*  These  were  the 
concessions  declared  by  parliament  to  be  sufficient  for 
the  basis  of  a  settlement  of  the  nation ;  and  nothing  but 
the  violence  of  the  army  prevented  them  from  being 
acted  upon.  Charles,  therefore,  would  have  been  com- 
pelled to  sanction  what  his  defenders  would  consider, 
now,  a  betrayal  of  the  church ;  or  acknowledge  himself 
perjured  in  the  sight  of  the  world.  The  summary 
manner  in  which  a  third  party  disposed  both  of  king 
and  parliament,  alone  saved  him  from  making  this 
exhibition  of  himself  Now,  standing  by  the  church ; 
and  now,  yielding  to  the  demands  of  the  bigoted  Pres- 
byterians ;  and  again  exciting  the  hopes  of  the  Catho- 
hcs ;  he  furnishes  the  most  pitiable  spectacle  of  a  man 
•  Vide  Hume. 


260  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

without  faith,  and  a  king  without  a  conscience, 
we  have  ever  witnessed.  Those  who  claim  such 
a  champion  forget  all  the  king  would  have  done, 
had  not  death  cut  short  his  career.  Sympathy,  rather 
than  principle,  has  converted  him  into  a  martyr.  A 
martyr  he  indeed  died — not  to  the  church,  but  to  the 
love  of  arbitrary  power.  Yet  withal,  he  was  a  weak 
rather  than  a  had  man ;  and  excites  our  contempt,  more 
than  hatred.  He  wrought  his  own  ruin;  and  forced 
the  republicans  to  every  act  they  committed  against 
him,  but  the  last.  That  was  impolitic  and  wrong  :  but 
who  can  expect  years  of  exasperation  to  end,  in  the 
moment  of  triumph,  in  moderate  justice  ?  Sad  and  mel- 
ancholy as  was  the  king's  fate,  it  was  not  without  its 
lesson.  That,  together  with  the  execution  of  Louis 
XVI.,  has  stood,  and  still  stands,  as  a  perpetual  warning 
to  monarchs  who  would  trample  on  the  rights  of  their 
subjects.  The  scaffold  of  Charles  I.  and  the  guillotine 
of  Louis  XVI.  are  the  ghosts  which  at  this  day  frighten 
the  despots  of  Europe  from  their  oppressions. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

CAMPAIGN    IN    IRELAND FROM    1649    TO    MAY,   1650. 

Establishment  of  a  Republic — Milton  Chosen  Secretary  of  the  Execu- 
tive Council — The  Levellers — Cromwell  Appointed  to  Command 
the  Expedition  to  Ireland — Insurrection  Quelled  by  Him — Pomp 
and  Splendor  of  His  Departure — Marriage  of  His  Son  Richard — 
Arrives  at  Dublin — Cruelties  of  the  Irish — Storming  and  Mas- 
sacre of  Drogheda— Of  Wexford — History  of  His  Movements — Re- 
called to  Resist  the  Scotch  Invasion — Character  of  the  Campaign — 
Defence  of  Cromwell — Final  Settlement  of  Ireland.* 

The  dispersion  of  parliament  by  the  army,  and  the 
execution  of  the  king,  rendered  any  compromise  of  the 
repubUcans  with  the  royaUsts,  impossible.  The  revo- 
lution could  no  longer  stand  still,  and  negotiate — it 
must  go  forward  or  downward.  Heretofore,  men's 
minds  had  been  too  much  engaged  in  the  struggle,  to 
forecast  clearly  what  the  state  of  things  would  be, 
when  these  mighty  obstacles  in  the  way  of  progress 
should  be  removed.  But  now,  as  the  smoke  of  the 
conflict  cleared  away,  they  saw  what  had  been  done : — 
royalty  had  disappeared — a  republic  become  inevitable, 
while  Cromwell,  as  chief  of  the  army,  was  the  actual 
ruler  of  England. 

Immediate  action  was,  therefore,  necessary ;  and,  on 
the  very  day  the  king's  execution  took  place,  the  com- 
mons resumed  their  sittings,  and  voted  that  the  post 


262  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

should  be  delayed  till  the  next  day  morning,  and 
the  trumpets,  in  the  meantime,  be  sounded  through 
London,  declaring  those  traitors  who  should  proclaim 
Charles  II.,  or  any  other  person,  king  of  England.  The 
House  of  Lords  also  met,  and  sent  a  message  to  the 
commons,  proposing  to  consult  with  them  upon  a  plan 
of  government.  They  however,  paid  no  attention  to 
the  message  or  the  messengers;  and  allow^ed  the  lat- 
ter to  stand  unheeded,  at  the  door,  until  wearied  out, 
they  returned  to  the  lords.  Message  after  message 
was  sent,  until,  at  length,  about  a  week  after  (on 
the  6th  of  February),  the  peers  of  England  succeeded 
in  attracting  the  notice  of  their  haughty  rivals.  It  was 
moved  and  carried,  "That  the  House  of  Peers  was 
useless,  dangerous,  and  ought  to  be  abolished ;  and  that 
an  act  be  brought  in  for  that  purpose."  The  lords 
received  this  decision  while  in  session ;  and  after  hav- 
ing heard  prayers,  and  disposed  of  a  rectory,  adjourned 
to  next  morning :  but,  they  never  met  again,  till 
Charles  II.  ascended  the  throne. 

The  next  day,  "kingship"  was  abolished,  by  a  de- 
liberate vote;  and  immediately  afterwards,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  motion  of  Marten,  the  king's  statues,  at 
the  Royal  Exchange,  and  other  places,  were  torn  down  ; 
and  the  day  following,  an  inscription  placed  on  their 
pedestals — "  Exit  tyrannus  regum  ultimus" — "  The  ty- 
rant, the  last  of  the  kings,  is  gone;"  and  beneath  it, 
"Anno  lihertatis  Anglicce  restitute  primo.  Anno 
Domini,  1648-9. 

The  government  of  England  was  then  settled  on  the 


1649.]  THE     COMMONWEALTH.  263 

basis  of  a  republic,  and  the  decree  sent  abroad  over 
Europe.  P^f  arten  next  introduced  a  bill  for  the  sale  of 
the  royal  property — lands,  houses,  regalia,  furniture, 
jewels,  paintings,  &c.  France,  Spain,  Sweden,  and  the 
Spanish  Netherlands,  purchased  most  of  them.  On  the 
9th,  the  courts  of  law  were  arranged,  the  great  seal 
broken,  and  the  new  one  substituted.  The  next  step 
was  still  more  important,  viz.,  the  formation  of  an  exe- 
cutive-council, to  take  the  place  of  the  king.  It  was 
composed  of  forty  members,  -who  were  to  hold  their 
places  for  a  year.  Among  them,  we  find  the  names  of 
Bradshaw,  Fairfax,  Cromwell,  Marten,  Ludlow,  White- 
locke,  and  others,  who  had  been  leaders  in  the  last  great 
movements.  Bradshaw  was  made  president ;  and  John 
Milton,  his  kinsman,  chosen  secretary  for  foreign  lan- 
guages. The  poet  and  the  scholar,  thus  became  a  part 
of  the  republic  of  England. 

The  first  step  was  to  settle  the  religious  government. 
This  was  done  by  retaining  the  Presbyterian  form, 
after  depriving  it  of  all  temporal  power.  In  a  spirit  of 
true  charity,  the  episcopal  clergy  were  allowed  a  por- 
tion of  the  tithes,  and  some  toleration  was  shown  to- 
wards the  Papists. 

It  was  no  slight  task  which  these  severe  republicans 
had  taken  upon  themselves.  A  commonwealth,  torn  by 
internal  feuds,  distracted  by  conflicting  theories,  and 
filled  with  discontented  men,  was  not  easily  to  be  kept 
steady  and  firm  by  persons  without  the  sanction  of  regal 
authority,  or  the  reverence  rendered  to  legitimate  power. 

True,  such   men   as   Cromwell,   Ireton,   Vane,    and 


264  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Marten,  commanded  respect  as  well  as  fear;  but  the 
elements  around  them  were  too  wild  and  stormy,  to 
subside  at  a  breath.     Soon  disturbances  arose  amoncr 

o 

the  levellers  and  radicals,  to  whom  a  republican  govern- 
ment was  not  liberty  enough,  and  who  wished  a  sort  of 
community-system,  or  a  return  to  a  state  of  absolute 
freedom.  Lilburn — restless,  Jacobinical — living  in  a 
semi-frenzied  state,  and  unable  to  keep  his  tongue  or 
pen  still,  brought  out  pamphlets,  called  "  England's 
New  Chains  Discovered,"  that  is,  its  new  government ; 
and  "  The  Huntiyig  of  the  Foxes  from  Triploe  Heath  to 
Whitehall,  hy  Five  Small  Beagles ;"  or  the  ciiasing  of 
Cromwell,  and  his  coadjutors,  from  their  grand  rendez- 
vous, previous  to  the  first  march  of  the  army  on  Lon- 
don, to  their  assumption  of  the  government  by  these 
insignificant  levellers.  He,  however,  soon  found  it  was 
no  fox  he  had  to  deal  with,  and  that  "  England's  chains  " 
were,  indeed,  heavy. 

The  great  danger  was  from  this  radical  party,  which 
embraced  all  the  strange  sects  which  now  made  Eng- 
land like  a  foaming  cauldron.  They  first  denounced 
the  king,  and  then,  when  the  parliament,  with  whom 
they  acted,  usurped  his  place,  denounced  parliament, 
helping  Cromwell  to  curb  it; — and,  now,  when  the 
latter  attempted  to  wield  the  power  they  had  put 
in  his  hands,  they  turned  fiercely  on  him.  Like  the 
French  Jacobins,  there  was  no  limit  to  the  liberty,  or, 
rather,  no  bounds  to  the  license  they  demanded. 

At  this  time,  too,  there  sprung  up  a  literary  war. 
The  hurricane  had  passed,  and  men  began  to  discuss 


1649.]  LITERARY     WAR.  265 

the  events  which  had  transpired.  The  royahsts  sent 
forth  "  Royal  Sighs ;"  and,  weeping  over  the  death 
of  the  king,  called  on  all  good  men  to  weep  with  them. 
Milton,  on  the  other  hand,  opened  his  batteries — ''•  Ico- 
noclaste,  the  Breaker  of  Images,"  followed  by  "  Biting 
Sarcasms  on  Salmatius  for  His  Defence  of  the  King," 
exhibited  both  the  spirit  of  the  times  and  the  almost 
fierce  republicanism,  of  the  poet. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  the  new  government 
moved  steadily  forward.  Duke  Hamilton,  who  was  so 
terribly  beaten  at  Preston ;  the  gay  Earl  of  Holland;  the 
stout  Lord  Cape],  the  first  who  rose  in  parliament  to 
complain  of  grievances,  were  condemned  to  death. 

Opposition  being  thus  overawed,  and  the  Common- 
wealth settling  into  permanent  shape,  public  attention 
was  naturally  directed  to  distracted  Ireland.  Ever 
since  the  dreadful  massacre  of  1641,  a  perpetual  war 
had  been  carried  on  between  the  Protestants  and 
Catholics.  This,  Charles,  while  alive,  had  fostered  by 
throwing  the  weight  of  his  influence  on  the  side  of  the 
Catholics.  The  parliament,  between  its  struggle  with 
the  English  cavaliers  and  the  Scotch  Presbyterians,  had 
use  for  all  its  troops,  and  could  not  succor  to  any  great 
extent  the  oppressed  brethren  of  Ireland  ;  but  now  it 
was  resolved  to  end  the  murderous  war,  and  press  to 
the  hps  of  the  Papists  the  cup  of  trembling  they  had  so 
long  made  the  Protestants  drink  to  the  dregs.  Ormond, 
who  still  acted  as  the  king's  lieutenant-general  there, 
had  proclaimed  Charles  II.  king,  and  the  prince  was 
about  to  start  for  Dublin 
12 


266  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

An  army  was,  therefore,  immediately  voted  for  Ire- 
land; and  w^hen  the  commander-in-chief  came  to  be 
selected,  all  e3"es  were  turned  on  Cromwell,  and  he  was 
unanimously  chosen.  He  professed  some  surprise  at 
his  nomination ;  and  addressing  the  House  of  Commons 
spoke  of  his  great  unworthiness  and  inability  to  under- 
take such  a  charge.  Whitelocke  says,  he  delayed  his 
answer  two  wrecks,  and  requested  that  two  officers 
might  be  selected  from  each  corps  to  meet  him  at 
Whitehall  in  prayer.  He  finally  consented  to  accept 
the  appointment,  though  the  motive  which  prompted 
him  to  do  so,  he  said,  w^as  the  "great  difficulty  which 
appeared  in  the  expedition."  Those  who  charge  Crom- 
well with  ambition  and  hypocrisy,  would  do  well  to 
explain  the  motives  which  induced  him  to  take  com- 
mand of  this  war.  The  government  in  which  he  was 
the  chief  man  had  just  become  settled,  and  he  had  but 
to  remain  and  manage  his  part  well  to  secure  the  entire 
power.  Military  renown  could  not  have  influenced 
him,  for  he  had  nothing  to  gain,  but  everything  to  lose, 
in  this  war  with  a  semi-barbarous  people.  He  had 
reached  the  highest  eminence  as  a  military  leader ;  and 
the  subjugation  of  the  insurgents,  who  would  never 
meet  him  in  fair  field-fight,  could  not  add  to  his  fame, 
while  defeat  would  peril  all  he  had  gained,  and  hurl  him 
at  once  from  the  elevation  he  occupied.  Nothing,  that 
we  can  see,  but  the  good  of  his  country,  and  the  welfare 
of  Protestantism,  urged  him  to  this  undertaking. 

No  sooner  was  his  resolution  taken  than  he  began  to 
make  his  preparations  with  that   energy   and   wisdom 


1649.]  MUTINY     IN     THE     ARMY.  267 

which  distinguished  all  his  acts.  He  demanded  at 
once,  12,000  horse  and  foot,  £100,000  ready  money,  an 
ample  supply  of  provisions,  and  ammunition,  and  that 
Ireton  should  accompany  him  as  second  in  command. 
His  title  was  to  be  Lord  Lieutenant-General  and 
General  Governor  of  Ireland. 

On  the  20th  of  April,  the  council  of  the  whole  army 
met  to  decide  by  lot  what  regiments  should  constitute 
this  army  of  twelve  thousand,  destined  for  so  hazardous 
a  service.  After  spending  some  time  in  prayer,  tickets 
were  placed  in  a  hat,  and  drawn  out  by  a  child.  The 
officers  of  the  twenty-eight  regiments  on  whom  the  lot 
fell,  rejoiced  that  they  were  once  more  to  follow  their 
great  leader  to  the  field  of  battle ;  but  many  of  the 
soldiers  murmured.  Besides,  the  radicalism  of  Lilburn 
and  his  friends  had  pervaded  a  portion  of  the  army, 
and  a  week  after  the  meeting  of  the  council  of  officers, 
a  mutiny  broke  out  in  a  troop  of  Whalley's  regiment 
quartered  at  Bishopgate.  Cromwell  and  Fairfax  imme- 
diately hastened  thither,  and  arrested  fifteen  of  the 
ring-leaders,  five  of  whom  were  condemned,  and  one 
shot. 

A  week  from  this  time,  on  the  1st  of  May,  Richard 
Cromwell  was  finally  married.  The  negotiations 
spoken  of  before,  were  so  protracted  and  delayed,  that 
the  parties  never  reached  a  settlement  until  this  late 
period. 

On  Wednesday,  the  9th,  Cromwell  reviewed  his 
troops  in  Hyde  Park,  and  saw  signs  of  discontent, 
which   he   strove   to   allay  by   argument   and  reason. 


268  OLIVER     CROMWELL 

Three  days  after,  Lilburn  and  his  friends  were  locked 
up  in  the  Tower.  Immediately  the  flames  of  rebellion 
burst  forth  in  several  shires,  and  at  head-quarters. 
First,  in  Oxfordshire,  a  party  of  two  hundred  took  the 
field,  demanding  more  perfect  freedom,  and  the  libera- 
tion of  Lilburn  and  his  friends — then  one  of  a  thousand 
at  Salisbury.  Cromwell's  far-reaching  mind  had  antici- 
pated this,  and  he  had,  therefore,  caused  the  ringleaders 
to  be  shut  up  in  the  Tower,  so  that  they  could  not 
harangue  the  men  as  they  did  in  the  first  mutiny. 
Immediately  on  the  reception  of  this  news,  he  and 
Fairfax  started  off.  They  travelled  all  Sunday ;  and  the 
mutineers  hearing  of  their  approach,  fled  northward. 
But  these  resolute  generals  followed  swiftly  after — riding 
on  Monday,  near  fifty  miles.  The  fugitives,  by  swim- 
ming a  river,  at  length  reached  Burford,  where,  deeming 
themselves  secure,  they  turned  out  their  horses  to  feed, 
and  laid  down  to  rest.  But  at  midnight,  Oliver,  with 
his  fierce  riders,  burst  into  the  town,  and  seized  nearly 
the  whole  of  them.  A  court-martial  was  called  on  the 
spot,  and  several  were  tried  and  condemned.  Cornet 
Thompson,  brother  to  Capt.  Thompson  the  ringleader, 
w^as  first  shot,  repenting,  but  too  late,  his  crime.  Two 
corporals  followed,  defying  their  foes  to  the  last.  The 
fourth,  Cornet  Dean,  asked  pardon  and  was  spared,  and 
the  execution  was  stayed.  Cromwell  then  addressed  the 
remaining  mutineers  on  the  turpitude  of  their  conduct. 
They  confessed  their  guilt  with  tears,  and  soon  after 
joined  their  regiments,  and  marched  cheerfully  for  Ire- 
land.    Captain  Thompson  himself  was,  in  a  few  days 


1649.]  DEPARTS     FOR     IRELAND.  269 

hunted  down,  and  shot  while  refusing  to  yield ;  and  the 
insurrection  brought  to  an  end.  Like  a  thunderbolt, 
"shattering  that  it  may  reach,  and  shattering  what  it 
reaches,"  Oliver  smote  this  incipient  rebellion  to  the 
heart,  and  gave  the  frenzied  radicals  to  understand  what 
kind  of  a  master  they  had  elected  over  themselves. 
Returning  through  Oxford,  he  and  Fairfax  were  there 
received  with  great  eclat.  Dinners  were  given  by  the 
magistrates  and  people,  while  the  college  conferred 
honors  on  them  and  their  officers.  The  commons 
passed  a  vote  of  thanks,  and  a  day  of  general  thanks- 
giving was  appointed. 

Having  thus  summarily  settled  affairs  in  the  army, 
Cromwell  prepared  to  leave  for  Ireland.  The  10th  of 
July  was  appointed  for  his  departure,  and  hence,  that 
day  was  set  apart  for  fasting  and  prayer,  by  the  officers. 
He  and  his  friends  assembled  at  Whitehall,  where 
three  ministers  solemnly  invoked  the  blessing  of  God  on 
his  banner.  After  they  had  finished,  Cromwell,  Goff, 
and  Harrison,  in  their  turn*  expounded  the  Scriptures, 
and  preached  as  well  as  if  the  hands  of  the  presbytery 
had  been  laid  upon  them.  Not  an  oath  was  heard 
among  the  officers — prayer,  and  the  smgmg  of  psalms, 
occupied  the  day ;  for  they  were  going  forth,  like  the 
army  of  Israel,  to  smite,  under  God,  the  enemies  of  His 
Church. 

This  strange  preparation  for  a  campaign  being  ended, 
Cromwell,  about  five  o'clock  in  the  evening,  in  the 
pomp  that  became  a  lord-general,  and  the  Common- 
wealth of  England,  took  his  departure.     In  a  splendid 


270  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

coach,  drawn  by  six  light  grey  steeds — beautiful  Flan- 
ders' mares — surrounded  by  his  life-guard  of  eighty 
young  men,  all  commanders  or  esquires,  in  rich  uniform, 
and  followed  by  a  crowd  of  coaches,  he  started  for 
Windsor,  on  his  w^ay  to  Bristol.  Never  was  a  nobler 
life-guard  seen,  than  this  band  of  youth,  who,  cased  in 
shining  armor,  and  mounted  on  noble  steeds,  galloped 
after  the  carriage  of  Oliver.  His  colors  were  white  ; 
and,  as  they  shook  in  the  breeze,  a  hundred  trumpets 
gave  forth  their  loudest  blast,  till  the  city  reeled  under 
the  joyful  din.  As  the  splendid  cortege  swept  on 
through  the  streets  of  London,  long  and  deafening 
shouts  rolled  heavenward,  drowning  even  the  clangor 
of  the  trumpets.  "  Now  have  at  you,  my  Lord  Ormond, 
you  will  have  men  of  gallantry  to  encounter,  who,  to 
overcome,  will  be  honor  sufficient,  and  to  be  beaten  by 
them  will  be  no  great  blemish  to  their  reputation — if 
you  say,  **  Caesar  or  nothing,"  they  say,  "  a  repubhc  or 
nothing."* 

On  the  fourth  day  after  kis  departure,  he  arrived  at 
Bristol,  where  he  was  received  with  great  pomp  and 
ceremony.  While  here,  notwithstanding  the  pressure 
of  business,  he  found  time  to  write  an  alFectionate  let- 
ter to  the  father  of  Richard's  wife,  with  whom  the 
young  couple  were  then  staying.  In  it,  he  speaks  in 
the  kindest  terms,  of  his  new  daughter-in-law,  saying, 
that  he  expects  she  will  write  him  often  ;  and  asks 
the  father  to  counsel  his  son,  saying,  "  /  wish  he  may  he 

*  Vide  "Whitelocke  and  the  Mod.  Int.,  a  newspaper  of  the  day;  as 
quoted  in  the  "  British  Statesmen." 


1649.]  LETTERS     TO     HIS     CHILDREN.  271 

serious — the  times  require  it."  Richard,  and  his  mother, 
joined  him  afterwards,  and  remained  till  near  the 
time  of  his  departure.  While  he  lay  at  Milford  Haven, 
on  board  the  ship  John,  he  wrote,  also,  to  his  daughter 
Dorothy,  in  the  same  simple,  affectionate  strain  which 
characterized  all  his  letters  to  his  children.  Thus  did 
this  strange  man,  terrible  as  death,  and  unrelenting  as 
doom,  in  the  presence  of  the  enemy,  unbend  to  those 
he  loved,  and  pour  forth  all  those  tender  feelings  which 
made  him  so  kind  a  parent.  These  striking  contrasts 
"  remind  us"  (as  Macauly  says  of  Milton's  poetry)  "  of 
the  miracles  of  Alpine  scenery.  Nooks  and  dells,  beau- 
tiful as  fairy  land,  are  embosomed  in  its  most  rugged 
elevations.  The  roses  and  the  myrtle  bloom  unchilled 
on  the  verge  of  the  avalanche" 

While  waiting  for  a  fair  wdnd,  Cromwell  received 
good  news  from  Dublin.  Ormond,  in  the  course  of 
the  past  year,  had  driven  Monk  out  of  Ireland,  and 
subdued  nearly  three-fourths  of  the  entire  island. 
Derry,  in  the  North,  and  Dublin  the  capital,  still  held 
out;  though  he  besieged  the  latter  place  with  19,000 
men,  while  10,000  more  were  marching  to  re-inforce 
him.  General  Jones,  parliamentary  major-general, 
occupied  the  city,  at  this  time,  with  only  a  little  over 
5,000  troops.  But  many  of  these  being  re-inforcements 
lately  sent  by  Cromwell,  he  .ventured  to  make  a  bold 
sally ;  and  falling  on  this  overwhelming  force,  rolled  it 
back  in  disorder,  and  drove  it,  broken  and  shattered 
to  pieces,  in  wild  flight  before   him.     Two  thousand 


272  OLIVER     CROMWELL 

five  hundred  prisoners,  and  four  thousand  slain,  were 
the  fruits  of  this  astonishing  victory. 

This  was  a  good  omen  to  Cromwell ;  and  when  he 
arrived  in  Dublin  (the  15th  of  August),  he  was  wel- 
comed with  salvos  of  cannon,  and  loud  acclamations, 
from  the  assembled  thousands.  The  people  blocked  his 
carriage  ;  and,  pausing  in  their  midst,  he  addressed  them 
kindly,  promising — Providence  assisting  him — to  deliver 
them  from  oppression.  The  crowd  answered  with 
shouts,  saying,  "We  will  live  and  die  with  you." 

He  remained  here  two  weeks,  to  allow  his  men  to 
recruit,  and  to  arrange  the  plan  of  the  campaign. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  any  adequate  idea  of  the  con- 
dition of  Ireland,  at  this  period,  or,  of  the  feeling  that 
prevailed  in  England  towards  the  Irish  Papists.  This 
unfortunate  island,  which  seems  to  have  been  reserved 
as  the  chosen  stage  on  which  every  form  and  degree  of 
human  suffering  might  be  exhibited;  had  been,  for 
years,  a  prey  to  the  most  bitter  feuds,  between  the 
Catholics  and  Protestants.  But,  at  this  time,  the  Catho- 
lics and  royalist  Presbyterians  had  all  united,  under 
Ormond,  to  put  Charles  II.  on  the  throne.  Never,  be- 
ibre,  had  the  opposition  been  so  powerful,  nor  the 
territory  to  be  reclaimed  by  the  parliament,  so  exten- 
sive. 

That  one  may  see  with  what  kind  of  spirit  Oliver 
and  his  enthusiastic  Puritans  entered  on  this  contest, 
and  obtain,  also,  some  insight  into  the  reasons  why 
they  smote  with  such  terrible  vengeance,  we  will  quote 
a  passage,  as  given  by  d'Aubigne,  from  Sir  J.  Temple's 


1649.]  MASSACRE     OF     PROTESTANTS.  273 

Irish  Rebellion:  "The  CathoHcs  burnt  the  houses  of 
the  Protestants,  turned  them  out  naked  in  the  midst  of 
winter,  and  drove  them  like  herds  of  swine  before 
them.  If  ashamed  of  their  nudity,  and  desirous  of 
seeking  shelter  from  the  rigor  of  a  remarkably  severe 
season,  these  unhappy  wretches  took  refuge  in  a  barn, 
and  concealed  themselves  under  the  straw,  the  rebels 
instantly  set  fire  to  it,  and  burned  them  alive.  At  other 
timxs,  they  were  bound,  without  clothing,  to  be  drowned 
in  rivers ;  and  if,  on  the  road,  they  did  not  move  quick 
enough,  they  were  urged  forward  at  the  point  of  the 
pike.  When  they  reached  the  river,  or  the  sea,  they 
were  precipitated  into  it  in  bands  of  several  hundreds , 
which  is,  doubtless,  an  exaggeration.  If  these  poor 
wretches  rose  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  men  were 
stationed  along  the  brink,  to  plunge  them  in  again  with 
the  butts  of  their  muskets,  or  to  fire  at,  and  kill  them. 
Husbands  were  cut  to  pieces  in  presence  of  their  wives ; 
wives  and  virgins  were  abused  in  the  sight  of  their 
nearest  relations ;  and  infants  of  seven  or  eight  years 
were  hung  before  the  eyes  of  their  parents.  Nay,  the 
Irish  even  went  so  far,  as  to  teach  their  own  children 
to  strip  and  kill  the  children  of  the  English,  and  dash 
out  their  brains  against  the  stones.  Numbers  of  Pro- 
testants were  buried  alive — as  many  as  seventy  in  one 
trench.  An  Irish  priest,  named  MacOdeghan,  captured 
forty  or  fifty  Protestants,  and  persuaded  them  to  abjure 
their  religion,  on  a  promise  of  quarter.  After  their 
abjuration,  he  asked  them  if  they  believed  that  Jesus 
Christ  was  bodily  present  in  the  host,  and  that  the  pope 
12^ 


274  OLIVER     CROMWELL, 

was  the  head  of  the  church?  And,  on  their  replying 
in  the  affirmative,  he  said,  " '  Now,  then,  you  are  in  a 
very  good  faith  ;'  and,  for  fear  they  should  relapse  into 
heresy,  cut  all  their  throats."  If  there  be  no  exag- 
geration in  this  account,  the  effect  of  gathering  into 
one  mass  the  evils  and  the  violence  scattered  over  so 
many  years,  has  the  same  effect  as  if  there  were.  Still, 
after  making  all  due  allowance,  what  a  frightful  picture 
does  this  present  of  the  state  of  Ireland ;  and  with 
what  a  fierce  spirit  of  retaliation,  must  such  acts  of 
cruelty  have  filled  the  enthusiastic  Puritans,  already  too 
intolerant!  With  this  statement  before  him,  one  may 
imagine  why  Cromwell  entered  so  ferociously  on  his 
work. 

STORMING    OF    DROGHEDA. 

Everything  being  ready,  Cromwell  put  a  portion  of 
his  army,  some  4,000  men,  in  motion  towards  Drogheda; 
into  which  Ormond  had  thrown  three  thousand  of  his 
choicest  troops.  Behind  thick  walls,  defended  by  strong 
entrenchments  and  abundance  of  heavy  artillery,  the 
latter  thought  he  could  keep  at  bay  any  force  that 
might  be  sent  against  him. 

Oliver  appeared  before  the  place  on  the  3d  of  Sep- 
tember, and  immediately  began  to  land  his  heavy  siege 
guns  and  erect  his  batteries.  In  six  days,  everything 
being  completed,  he  hoisted  the  red  flag,  and  opened  his 
fire.  All  that  day  he  rained  his  shot  upon  the  walls 
and  towers  with  but  little  effect.     The  next  morning 


1649.]  STORM     OF     DROGHEDA.  275 

the  fire  was  commenced  with  renewed  vigor  from  two 
batteries,  which  were  planted  within  point-blank  range 
of  the  east  and  south  walls.  All  day  long  it  was  a 
continued  peal  of  thunder  around  the  town  ;  and  before 
night  the  thick  mason- work  began  to  crumble,  and  huge 
gaps  to  appear,  through  which  resolute  men  might 
storm.  The  besieged,  however,  did  not  witness  the 
gradual  progress  made  by  the  enemy  without  putting 
forth  every  effort  to  render  it  useless.  Where  the  walls 
began  to  give  way  strong  intrenchments  were  thrown 
up,  from  behind  which  a  terrible  flank  fire  could  be 
thrown  on  the  columns  that  might  clear  the  breaches. 
But  Cromwell  no  sooner  saw  ''two  reasonable  good 
breaches''  made,  than  he  formed  the  storming  parties ; 
and  at  five  o'clock  the  trumpets  sounded  the  assault, 
and  a  thousand  desperate  men  sprung  forward.  In  an 
instant  every  gun  that  could  be  brought  to  bear  upon 
them  opened  its  fire,  and  it  rained  a  horrible  tempest  on 
the  head  of  the  column.  But  pressing  in  the  track  of 
their  daring  leaders,  they  pushed  furiously  on — shouting, 
through  the  murderous  fire — and  gallantly  mounted  the 
breach  and  entered  it.  But  met  by  the  strong  mtrench- 
ments,  and  swept  by  the  steady  fire  of  the  enemy 
behind  them  and  from  within  a  church  that  flanked 
the  entrance ;  they  hesitated,  wavered,  and  finally  stag- 
gered backward  through  the  breach,  leaving  it  filled 
with  the  dead.  Undismayed,  Cromwell  formed  a 
second  column  of  attack,  and  kindling  their  enthusiasm 
by  his  fiery  words,  again  sent  them  forward.  Gallantly 
advancing   they  poured  through    the    rent   walls,   and 


276  O  L  T  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  VV  E  I,  L  . 

charged  desperately  on  those  bloody  intrenchments,  but 
in  vain  : — ^shattered,  and  broken,  and  scourged  into 
madness  by  the  tremendous  volleys,  they  also,  recoiled. 
All  the  lion  in  Cromwell  was  now  roused  as  he  saw  his 
favorite  troops  the  second  time  borne  back,  disheartened 
and  disorderly,  from  the  walls.  What !  be  beaten  at 
the  outset,  and  not  only  suffer  a  shameful  defeat,  but 
give  the  enemy  the  gi'eat  m.oral  power  which  a  victory 
then  obtained  always  confers  ?  No  ;  he  who  had  thus 
far  gained  every  battle  he  fought,  was  not  to  let  the  tide 
of  his  fortunes  turn  here,  especially  vv^hen  the  hosts  of 
the  Lord  were  marshalled  against  those  of  Belial. 
Forgetting  the  lord-general  in  the  fiery  captain,  he 
rallied  his  men  the  third  time,  and  with  his  countenance 
lighted  up  with  that  fearful  expression  it  always  w^ore 
in  battle,  he  placed  himself  at  their  head,  and  pointing  for- 
ward with  his  sword,  summoned  them  to  follow.  Nothing 
could  exceed  the  enthusiasm  of  the  soldiers  when  they 
found  Cromwell  at  their  head :  shoulder  to  shoulder,  they 
crowded  joyfully  to  the  breach,  and  rushing  through  it 
in  one  wild  torrent,  swept  those  strong  intrench- 
ments, like  the  breath  of  the  destroying  angel.  Making 
good  their  position  there  and  in  the  church,  so  as  to 
command  the  entrance,  the  cavalry  was  ordered  up. 
The  trumpets  sounded,  and  over  the  broken  wall  and 
.over  the  dead  bodies  the  fearless  Ironsides  plunged  for- 
ward, and  forming  in  the  streets  drove  everything  before 
them.  A  portion  of  the  garrison  retreated  into  the 
Mill-Mount,  a  fortification  perched  on  a  high  hill  and 
thoroughly  defended  by  strong  works  and  heavy  pali- 


1«649.]  THE     MASSACRE.  277 

sades.  But  nothing  could  now  stay  the  excited  troops, 
and  beating  down  the  palisades — climbing  over  the 
w^alls — they  made  their  way  into  the  centre  of  the  fort, 
hewing  down  all  who  obstructed  their  passage.  Then 
commenced  one  of  the  most  terrible  scenes  of  war. 
Roused  by  the  resistance  he  had  met  with,  Cromwell 
ordered  his  troops  to  give  no  quarter  to  those  who  were 
found  with  arms  in  their  hands.  All  that  night  the 
work  of  death  went  on.  Nothing  was  heard  but  the 
volleys  of  musketry — the  fierce  gallop  of  horsemen — the 
clash  of  weapons,  and  shouts  and  shrieks  of  men.  The 
prayer  for  mercy  was  of  no  avail ;  and  like  reapers  in  some 
harvest  field,  the  Puritan  host  swept  through  the  streets 
of  Drogheda,  slaying  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the 
left.  Before  the  morning  sun  rose  on  the  smoking 
town,  two  thousand  had  passed  from  the  scene  of 
slaughter  to  another  world.  Heaps  of  corpses  blocked 
the  way,  and  the  blood  flowed  in  rills  through  the 
streets.  Nor  did  this  end  the  work  of  destruction. 
About  a  hundred  of  the  garrison  fled  into  another  part 
of  the  town,  and  took  refuge  in  the  steeple  of  St. 
Peter's  Church.  Cromwell  summoned  them  to  sur- 
render, and  they  refusing,  he  ordered  the  steeple  to  be 
fired,  and  in  a  short  time  the  lofty  spire  was  wrapped 
in  flames.  The  shrieks  and  cries  of  the  burning  multi- 
tude within  were  enough  to  move  the  hardest  heart,  but 
no  mercy  was  extended.  The  wretched  inmates  expired 
in  the  most  excruciating  agony ;  and  at  length  the 
steeple  of  the  church  crumbled  above  them,  burying 
them  in  one  common  ruin. 


278  OLIVER     CROM  VV  ELL. 

Thus  enaea  tne  second  day's  slaughter.  The  third 
morning,  two  other  strong  towers,  into  which  the  re- 
maining fugitives  had  fled,  were  summoned  to  yield, 
but  a  refusal  being  sent,  and  shots  fired  on  the 
soldiery,  they  were  closely  invested.  Over  a  hundred 
in  one  tower  finally  surrendered,  when  every  officer 
was  knocked  on  the  head,  and  every  tenth  soldier  slain. 
The  rest,  together  with  those  of  the  other  tower,  to 
whom  mercy  was  shown,  were  shipped  to  the  Barbadoes 
as  slaves  ; — only  thirty  escaped  this  dreadful  massacre  ; 
and  but  one  officer  lived  to  tell  the  tale  to  the  Irish 
army : — even  the  friars  fell  before  the  fury  of  the  soldiers. 

We  have  sketched  only  the  outlines  of  this  revolting 
scene,  which  lasted  several  days  ;  for  the  horrid  details 
would  freeze  the  blood  ;  but  thus  much  we  felt  bound  to 
say,  so  as  not  to  cover  up,  in  any  way,  so  great  an 
enormity.  Cromwell  himself  attempts  no  disguise,  and 
in  writing  to  the  government  an  account  of  it,  he  says, 
after  speaking  of  carrying  the  intrenchments  :  "  Being 
thus  entered,  we  refused  them  quarter,  having  the  day 
before  summoned  the  town.  I  believe  ice  put  to  the  sword 
the  whole  number  of  the  defendants.  I  do  not  think 
thirty  of  the  whole  number  escaped  with  their  lives. 
Those  that  did  are  in  safe  custody  for  the  Barbadoes.'' 
He  concludes  this  singular  declaration  with  "  1  wish  that 
all  honest  men  may  give  the  glory  of  this  to  God  alone,  to 
whom,  indeed,  the  praise  of  this  mercy  belongs."  What 
a  shocking  expression  this  is  to  wind  up  a  massacre 
with.  The  Lord,  we  opine,  did  not  thank  him  for  the 
compliment ;  and  would  much  rather  prefer  "  the  un 


1649.]  HIS     VICTORIOUS     MARCH.  279 

worthy  instrument"  should  take  all  "  the  glory"  to 
himself.  His  chaplain,  Hugh  Peters,  took  the  same 
view  of  it,  and  went  to  the  chief  church,  where  he 
solemnly  offered  up  thanks  to  God  for  the  slaughter  of 
his  enemies.  Parhament  also  decreed  that  a  day  of 
thanksgiving  should  be  kept  in  honor  of  this  great 
mercy. 

The  fate  of  Drogheda  struck  the  Irish  people  with 
dread.  The  day  of  vengeance  had  arrived ;  and  the 
atrocities  they  had  practiced  on  the  helpless  Protestants 
were  now  to  be  visited  upon  their  own  heads.  Cromwell 
— resolved  to  bring  the  Irish  war  to  a  speedy  termina- 
tion, followed  up  this  victory  by  those  rapid  movements 
which  distinguished  his  last  campaign  in  England. 
The  neighboring  towns  of  Dundalk  and  Trim  surren- 
dered without  the  least  resistance  ; — the  garrison  of  the 
latter,  in  their  hasty  flight,  leaving  all  their  artillery 
behind  them. 

He  then  returned  to  Dublin,  but  after  resting  there  a 
few  days,  started  southward.  About  fourteen  miles 
from  the  city,  he  came  upon  a  garrison  stationed  in  Car- 
rick,  or  Killencarrick,  who  fled  at  his  approach.  Leav- 
ing a  company  to  defend  the  place,  he  pressed  forward, 
and  marching  through  a  desolate  country,  came  to  the 
river  Doro  and  the  strongly-fortified  castle  of  Arcklow, 
the  ancient  seat  of  the  family  of  Ormond.  Struck  with 
terror,  the  garrison  fled  without  attempting  a  defence, 
and  Cromwell  pursued  his  triumphant  march.  At  Lim- 
erick, on  his  way  to  Wexford,  he  found  another  strong 
castle  and  garrison ;  but  the  soldiers,  having  fired  the 


280  OLIVERCROMWELL. 

town,  fled.  The  castle  of  Ferns  fell  next,  without 
a  blow ;  and  after  it,  Enniscarthy,  where  there  were  a 
strong  castle  and  the  largest  monastery  of  Franciscan 
friars  in  all  Ireland.  Leaving  small  garrisons  to  hold 
these  places,  he  kept  on,  until,  on  the  3d  of  October,  the 
walls  of  the  rich  and  strong  town  of  Wexford  arose 
before  him. 

STORMING    OF     WEXFORD. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  river  lay  Ormond,  with  over 
three  thousand  troops ;  but  they  marched  away,  leav- 
ing it  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  Puritan  army.  OU- 
ver  immediately  sent  a  summons  to  the  governor  to  sur- 
render. The  latter,  in  reply,  asked  till  the  next  day  at 
twelve  o'clock,  to  confer  with  the  major  and  the  officers, 
proposing,  in  the  meantime,  a  cessation  of  arms.  Crom- 
well replied,  that  he  would  expect  his  answer  the  next 
day  at  twelve  o'clock ;  but,  in  the  meantime,  should 
keep  busy.  His  answer  was  laconic  enough  ;  and,  his 
reasons  for  carrying  on  hostilities  during  the  conference, 
were  best  known  to  himself.  He  says,  "Because  our 
tents  are  not  so  good  covering  as  your  houses,  and  for 
other  reasons,  I  cannot  agree  to  a  cessation."  Acting 
on  this  declaration,  he  sent  General  Jones,  with  a  body 
of  horse  and  foot,  to  take  a  fort  at  the  mouth  of  the  har- 
bor ;  which  was  speedily  done,  by  the  dragoons  alone — 
the  governor  fleeing  in  a  boat  to  a  frigate  lying  within 
cannon  shot  of  the  shore.  Some  seamen  of  the  par- 
liamentary fleet,  having  entered  the  fort  soon  after  the 


1649.]  STORM     OF     WEXFORD  281 

drngoons  took  possession  of  it,  turned  seven  cannon 
which  had  been  left  behind,  on  the  frigate,  in  such  a 
well-directed  fire,  that  she  soon  struck  her  colors. 
Another  vessel,  not  knowing  what  had  happened,  com- 
ing to  her  help,  was  also  captured. 

In  the  meantime,  a  reinforcement  of  five  hundred 
infantry  having  been  thrown  into  the  town,  the  gov- 
ernor concluded  not  to  send  any  reply  to  Cromwell; 
Avhereupon  the  latter  planted  his  batteries  against  the 
castle  standing  outside  the  walls,  on  the  north-east  side 
of  the  place,  and  began  to  play  upon  it  with  "  the  whole 
strength  of  his  artillery."  After  a  hundred  shot  had 
been  thrown,  "  the  governor's  stomach  came  down  ;" 
and,  notwithstanding  there  was  a  rampart  of  earth 
within  the  walls,  fifteen  feet  thick,  on  which  cannon- 
balls  could  have  no  effect,  and  nearly  a  hundred  guns 
lined  the  works,  he  offered  to  surrender.  But  the  terms 
did  not  at  all  suit  Cromwell,  who  called  them  "  abom- 
inable;" and  prepared  to  carry  the  place  by  storm. 
The  castle,  however — fair  terms  being  given  it — sur- 
rendered, without  farther  resistance ;  and  the  soldiers, 
rushing  into  it  with  shouts,  hoisted  their  flag  on  the 
summit.  The  troops  who  manned  the  walls  of  the 
town,  no  sooner  heard  the  loud  huzzas  of  the  repub- 
lican soldiers,  and  saw  them  crowding  the  top  of  the 
castle,  than  they  fled  within  the  ramparts.  Taking  ad- 
vantage of  this  sudden  panic,  the  officers  hastily  formed 
storming  parties,  who,  wdth  ladders  in  their  hands, 
rushed  furiously  on  the  walls,  and  climbing  over  them, 
poured  into  the  streets.     When  they  reached  the  mar- 


282  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

ket-place,  they  found  the  enemy  drawn  up  in  firm  order 
who  received  them  wath  a  volley,  and,  for  awhile,  stoutly 
held  their  ground.  But  nothing  could  resist  the  infu- 
riated soldiery — rushing  resolutely  on  the  levelled  pikes, 
they  broke  the  ranks  in  pieces,  and  then  began  the 
work  of  slaughter.  Three  hundred  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing two  boats,  into  which  they  leaped,  and  pushed  from 
shore;  but,  the  boats  being  overladen,  sank  with  all 
on  board.  The  scenes  of  Drogheda  were  here  enacted 
over  again;  and  men,  women,  and  children,  fell  in 
indiscriminate  slaughter.  Two  thousand  corpses  lay 
piled  in  the  streets  and  market-place. 

Wexford  was  a  wealthy  and  prosperous  place ;  and 
hence  furnished  a  rich  booty  to  the  soldiers.  Among 
the  spoils  which  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  republicans 
were  three  ships  of  war — two  of  twenty,  and  one  of 
thirty  guns — besides  several  trading  vessels.  The  con- 
duct of  the  soldiers  in  this  storm,  was  ferocious  and 
cruel  in  the  extreme,  but,  a  single  paragraph  in  Crom- 
well's despatch  goes  far  to  palliate,  if  not  excuse,  it ; 
and  shows  in  what  a  spirit  of  vengeance,  they  fell  on 
the  inhabitants.  In  speaking  of  two  cases  of  cruelty 
which  had  formerly  occurred  there,  he  says,  "About 
seven  or  eight  score  of  poor  Protestants,  were,  by  them, 
(the  papists,)  put  into  an  old  vessel ;  which  being,  as  some 
say,  bulged  by  them,  the  vessel  sunk,  and  they  were  all 
presently  drowned  in  the  harbor."  "  The  other  in- 
stance was  thus — they  put  divers  poor  Protestants  into 
a  chapel,  where  they  were  famished  to  death."  "  It  is 
on  this  account,"  he  declares,  ''  that  God,  by  an  unex- 


1649.]  TAKES     ROSS.  283 

pected  Providence  in  His  righteous  justice,  brought  a 
just  judgment  upon  them." 

Leaving  Wexford  under  the  command  of  Colonel 
Cooke  he  marched  against  Ross  on  the  17th  of 
October,  situated  on  the  river  Barrow,  and  garrisoned 
by  a  thousand  men.  He  sat  down  before  it  with  only 
three  cannon,  and  summoned  it  to  surrender.  In  the 
meanwhile,  as  w^as  his  invariable  custom,  he  began  to 
plant  his  batteries,  and  make  preparation  for  a  storm. 
Ormond  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  sent 
over  a  re-inforcement  of  fifteen  hundred  men. 

But,  it  made  no  difference  to  Cromwell,  whether  it 
was  fifteen  hundred,  or  five  thousand;  he  had  deter- 
mined Ross  should  fall ;  and,  on  the  14th,  opened  his 
battery.  This  brought  a  reply  from  the  governor,  who 
offered  to  capitulate,  provided  the  lord-general  would 
grant  him  favorable  terms.  The  latter  replied,  that  he 
might  march  away  with  his  troops,  with  drums  beating 
and  colors  flying; — and  that  the  property  and  lives  of 
the  inhabitants  should  be  protected.  This  was  wTitten 
amid  the  roar  of  cannon,  which,  notwithstanding  the 
request  of  the  governor,  that  hostilities  should  cease 
while  negotiations  were  pending,  kept  thundering  on 
the  walls.  Oliver  had  no  time  to  spare  ;  and  would 
admit  of  no  cessation  of  arms.  "  Surrender !"  was 
his  constant  demand,  enforcing  it,  in  the  meantime, 
with  his  artillery. 

Thus,  while  the  governor  was  pondering  on  the  con- 
ditions  offered  him,  a  fearful  breach  had  been  opened 


284  OLIVER     CROMWELL 

m   the  walls;    and    a   storming   party  was  already  in 
column,  waiting  for  the  signal  to  rush  to  the  assault. 

The  governor,  seeing  how  matters  stood,  sent  word 
that  he  would  surrender  the  place,  on  the  terms  pro- 
posed, provided  he  was  allowed  to  take  with  him 
the  artillery  and  ammunition ;  and  ihe  inhabitants  who 
chose  to  leave  were  permitted  to  carry  away  themselves 
and  goods;  "and  those  who  stayed,  have  liberty  of 
conscience."  Cromwell  replied,  that  he  could  take 
with  him  whatever  he  brought  there — nothing  more  ; 
and  the  people  who  chose  to  go,  might  carry  away 
their  goods,  and  have  time  to  do  it  in.  "  But"  he 
added,  "as  for  that  which  you  mention  concerning 
liberty  of  conscience,  I  meddle  not  with  any  man's 
conscience.  But,  if  by  liberty  of  conscience  you  mean 
a  liberty  to  exercise  the  mass,  I  judge  it  best  to  use 
plain  dealing,  and  to  let  you  know,  where  the  parlia- 
ment of  England  have  power,  that  will  not  be  allowed 
of."  Plain  dealing  enough,  and  language  clearly  un 
derstood.  "  You  may  believe  what  you  choose ;  I  do 
not  trouble  myself  about  other  men's  consciences ; 
but  where  my  banner  waves,  no  mass  shall  be  said. 
Sooner  than  permit  it,  I  wdll  storm  your  strongholds, 
and  crowd  your  streets  with  the  dead."  Strong  Protes- 
tantism this,  and  not  likely  to  be  moved  much  by  argu- 
msnt. 

He  sent  the  w^hole  account  to  parliament,  that  they 
might  '■'  see  how  God  pulled  down  strong  stomachs." 
One  cannot  but  be  struck  with  the  strange  contrast 


1649.]  HIS     DESPATCHES.  285 

between  Cromwell's  correspondence  with  the  governors 
of  Irish  towns,  and  with  parliament.  To  the  latter, 
his  letters  are  more  like  rehgious  epistles  than  military 
despatches ;  while,  to  the  former,  he  says  nothing  of 
"providence,"  makes  no  exhortations,  but  writes  with  the 
abruptness  and  sternness  of  Caesar.  There  are  no  mystic 
allusions — no  prolix  sentences.  He  expresses  himself 
in  the  fewest  words  possible,  and  with  a  sternness  that 
startles  the  reader. 

Five  or  six  hundred  of  the  garrison  being  English- 
men, they  joined  his  standard — an  example  afterwards 
followed  by  other  places;  so  that  he  constantly  re- 
cruited his  army  from  the  enemy.  Cork  and  Youghall 
soon  surrendered  to  his  officers ;  and  the  reduction  of 
Ireland  went  bravely  on.  General  Blake,  now  Admi- 
ral Blake,  was  co-operating  w^th  the  land  forces,  and 
had  already  taken  several  prizes. 

Cromwell's  despatch  gives  a  full  account  of  his  vari- 
ous successes,  which  he  ascribes  entirely  to  Providence. 
"It  pleased  God"  to  raise  an  adverse  wind,  which  ter- 
minated in  good.  "  It  pleased  God,"  that  they  had,  on 
another  occasion,  two  demi-cannon,  with  which  they 
raked  a  man-of-w^ar,  and  two  prizes,  so  that  they  were 
compelled  to  surrender.  "  It  pleased  God  to  give  the 
men  courage" — indeed,  Providence  wrought  every- 
thing. "  It  w^as  the  Lord  only ;"  so  that  "  the  instru- 
ments were  very  inconsiderable  throughout."  It,  how- 
ever seemed  to  occur  to  him,  that  parliament  might 
take  him  too  literally,  and  leave  Providence,  who  had 
done  so  much,  to  do  the  rest,  and  send  him  no  recruits ; 


286  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

and,  remembering,  too,  as  the  French  general  did,  that 
Providence  was  very  apt  to  favor  the  strong  battalions, 
he  added,  by  way  of  caution,  "  Give  me  leave,  in  con- 
clusion, humbly  to  offer  what,  in  my  judgment,  I  con- 
ceive to  be  for  your  service.  We  desire  recruits.  It 
is  not  good  to  follow  providences' — that  is,  you  must  not 
have  so  much  faith,  as  to  forget  the  "  strong  battalions." 
"  Faith,  without  works,  is  dead,"  was  his  motto ;  and 
while  he  ascribed  his  success  to  God,  he  made  use  of 
all  the  means  in  his  power. 

At  the  close  of  this  temble  campaign,  pestilence, 
following  in  the  track  of  famine  and  war,  swept  over 
the  country  and  entered  the  army ;  so  that,  as  Cromwell 
said,  the  soldiers  became  "  more  fitted  for  the  hospital 
than  the  open  field."  The  gallant  Jones  and  Horton 
both  fell  victims  to  it,  and  scarcely  "  one  officer  of  forty" 
escaped.  He  himself  was  cast  on  a  sick  bed  in  Ross, 
but  soon  was  on  his  feet  again.  This  single  man, 
on  whose  life  such  great  destinies  hung,  exposed  him- 
self like  the  meanest  soldier  in  the  deadly  breach,  and 
walked  amid  the  same  pestilence  which  cut  down  thou- 
sands by  his  side,  unslain.  A  stray  bullet,  an  adven- 
turous pike,  and  the  Commonwealth  of  England  would 
have  been  an  air  bubble  which  the  first  touch  breaks. 

From  Ross  he  marched  on  Waterford,  which,  after 
investing  some  time,  he  abandoned,  and  went  into 
winter  quarters.  Various  measures  of  his  under  offi- 
cers marked  the  close  of  his  operations  ; — for  himself,  as 
soon  as  his  troops  were  comfortably  settled,  he  made  the 
tour  of  his  garrisons,  and  prepared  for  an  early  opening 


1650.  J  THE     SPRING     CAMPAIGN.  287 

of  the  spring  campaign.  He  also  attended  to  civil 
matters — a  court  of  justice  was  established  in  Dublin 
and  Munster,  over  which  Ireton  was  placed  by  parlia- 
ment as  grand  judge. 

His  despatches,  dated  Cork,  Dec.  19th,  giving  an 
account  of  his  last  measures  and  his  settlement  in 
winter  quarters,  reached  parliament  on  the  8th  of 
January,  and  were  no  sooner  read  than  a  vote  was 
passed  recalling  him  to  England.  Charles  II.  had 
formed  a  coalition  with  the  Scotch — or  rather,  being  less 
scrupulous  than  his  father,  had  yielded  all  to  their  de- 
mands, on  condition  they  should  place  him  on  the 
throne.  A  second  invasion  was  threatened,  and  it 
behooved  parliament  to  have  Cromwell  at  home. 

In  the  meantime,  the  lord-general  did  not  wait  for 
spring  to  open  before  he  commenced  operations.  No 
sooner  were  his  men  recruited,  and  re-inforcements 
from  England  received,  than  he  took  the  field ;  and, 
though  the  weather  was  cold,  on  the  24th  of  January 
put  his  troops  in  motion.  It  is  not  our  intention 
to  go  into  all  the  details  of  this  sickening  v/ar — enough 
has  been  already  given  to  show  in  what  manner  it  was 
carried  on,  and  illustrate  the  chief  actors  in  it. 

The  plan  of  the  campaign  soon  developed  itself — 
Col.  Reynolds,  at  the  head  of  a  large  body  of  horse 
and  dragoons  and  two  thousand  foot,  marched  into  Kil- 
kenny followed  by  Ireton  with  a  strong  reserve,  while 
Cromwell  took  his  way  towards  the  counties  of  Limer- 
ick and  Tipperary,  determined  to  penetrate  into  the  very 
heart  of  the  enemy's  country      Two  days  after  he  left 


288  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Youghal,  he  took  the  castle  of  Kilkenny,  on  the  borders 
of  Limerick,  and,  soon  after,  Clogheen.  Raghill  Castle 
and  old  Castletown  also  surrendered,  when  he  moved 
toward  Fethard,  beyond  the  Suir.  After  a  terrible 
march,  rendered  worse  by  a  storm  of  wdnd  and  rain,  he 
arrived,  at  night,  before  this  strongly  walled  place 
His  troops,  drenched  to  their  skins,  cold  and  hungry, 
could  find  no  place  of  shelter,  except  an  old  abbey, 
into  which  they  crawled  to  escape  the  tempestuous 
weather. 

The  main  army  was  not  yet  up,  and  this  was  merely 
an  advance-guard  of  a  few  hundred,  with  which  he 
had  marched  so  boldly  into  the  midst  of  the  enemy. 
But  neither  the  smallness  of  his  force,  nor  the  stormy 
night,  nor  the  state  of  his  troops,  could  induce  him  to 
delay  a  moment  before  it ;  and  soon  his  trumpet  w^as 
heard  amid  the  pauses  of  the  storm,  summoning  the 
town  to  surrender.  The  garrison  shot  at  the  trumpeter, 
and  for  an  hour  refused  to  answer  the  call,  saying,  that 
"  it  was  not  a  time  of  nisfht  to  send  a  summons."  But 
Cromwell  would  listen  to  no  excuse,  and  the  indignant 
governor  was  compelled  to  sit  up  all  night  and  settle  the 
treaty,  by  w^hich,  next  morning,  the  place  was  given  up. 

He  then  started  for  Callan,  where  he  met  Col.  Rey- 
nolds, who  had  also  been  successful.  The  colonel  was 
sent  with  his  regiment  to  sieze  Knocktofer;  w^hile 
Cromwell,  with  the  remaining  forces,  returned  to 
Fethard  and  Cashel.  Cahir  Castle,  perched  like  an 
eagle  upon  a  rock,  and  which  formerly  cost  the  Earl  of 
Essex  a  siege  of  eight  weeks  to  subdue,  yielded  at  once- 


1650.]  ALWAYS     VICTORIOUS.  289 

The  Castle  of  Kiltinon,  of  Golden  Bridge,  of  Dundrum, 
fell  in  rapid  succession,  and  garrisons  were  so  distrib- 
uted over  the  country,  that  the  enemy  could  not  obtain 
subsistence,  and  fell, detachment  after  detachment,  into 
the  hands  of  the  republicans. 

In  Limerick,  Col.  Henry  Cromwell  and  Lord  Broghil* 
drove  the  enemy  out  of  the  country  into  Kilkenny. 
Cromwell,  hearing  of  it,  marched  thither,  with  his 
accustomed  rapidity,  and  prostrating  everything  in  his 
passage,  formed  a  junction  with  Col.  Hewson,  who  had 
arrived  from  Dublin.  He  then  proceeded  to  invest  a 
strong  castle  near  Gowran,  commanded  by  Col.  Ham- 
mond, "  who  was  a  principal  actor  in  the  Kentish  insur- 
rection, and  did  manage  Lord  Capel's  business  at  his 
trial"  (to  little  purpose  it  seemed),  and  ordered  him  to 
surrender.  The  valiant  colonel  sent  a  haughty  refusal, 
upon  which  Cromwell  planted  his  artillery  and  began  to 
play  upon  him.  The  clatter  of  balls  about  his  ears,  and 
the  crumbling  of  walls,  brought  the  colonel  to  his 
senses,  and  he  beat  a  parley,  offering  to  treat.  But 
the  former,  having  once  offered  him  fairly,  refused — 
saying,  that  he  would  promise  nothing  but  the  safety 
of  the  soldiers — the  surrender  of  the  officers  must  be 
unconditional.  Hammond  accepted  the  terms,  and  the 
soldiers  were  saved  :  but  he  and  all  his  officers,  except 

*  It  is  said  that  Broghil,  formerly  an  enemy  of  Cromwell,  being 
detected  in  a  conspiracy,  was  compelled  to  choose  between  the 
scaffold  and  the  army  of  the  Commonwealth.  But  it  is  doubtful 
whether  Cromwell  would  have  entrusted  such  an  important  command 
to  a  friend  thus  obtained.  He  was,  however,  a  faithful  and  efficient 
officer, 

13 


290  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

one,  were  inhumanly  shot,  and  the  Catholic  chaplain 
hung  outside  the  walls. 

He  next  marched  to  the  "  city  of  Kilkenny,"  where 
he  arrived  on  the  22d  of  March.  Two  days  after,  his 
battery  of  "  three  guns  began  to  play,"  and  after  a  hun- 
dred shot,  or  so,  made  a  breach,  which  their  fiery  leader 
thought  "  stormable"  and  rushed  into  it.  But  the  gar- 
rison had  cast  up  works,  and  palisaded  them,  which 
commanded  the  breach  so  completely  that  the  assaulting 
column  recoiled  in  confusion.  But  Col.  Ew^er  with  a 
thousand  men  having  made  a  lodgement  in  another  por- 
tion of  the  city  and  a  town  on  the  farther  side  of  the 
river  being  occupied  by  a  detachment  of  republican 
troops,  the  place,  after  some  severe  fighting,  surrendered. 

In  the  meantime,  his  subordinate  officers,  operating 
against  smaller  places  in  the  neighborhood,  were  equally 
successful ;  and  "they  continued  to  grow  upon  their  ene- 
my, as  the  Lord  blessed  them." 

The  letter  of  recall,  sent  the  8th  of  January,  did 
not  reach  Oliver,  it  appears,  till  the  22d  of  March. 
Whether  he  managed  so  as  to  secure  its  detention  till 
he  could  finish  his  work  in  Ireland,  or  not,  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  say,  but  it  seems  very  strange  that  a  government 
despatch  should  be  two  months  and  a  half  going  from 
London  to  Ireland. 

STORM    OF    CLOMMEL. 

Hugh  O'Neil  commanded  here  with  a  strong  garri- 
son under  him ;  and  undismayed  by  the  vengeance  which 


1650.]  STORM     OF     CLOMMEL.  291 

had  fallen  on  other  towns,  made  a  gallant  defence. 
Cromwell,  as  heretofore,  immediately  planted  his  batte- 
ries, and  as  soon  as  a  breach  was  made,  ordered  the 
storm.  But  the  enemy  had  erected  double  intrench- 
ments  and  cross  works  within,  which  were  flanked  in 
turn  by  houses ;  so  that  after  the  breach  was  passed,  the 
peril  had  but  just  commenced.  The  enthusiastic  repub- 
licans crowded,  however,  into  the  ragged  opening  made 
by  the  cannon,  and  falling  with  a  terrible  shout  on  the 
net-work  of  defences  within,  attempted  to  carry  them  by 
an  overw^helming  charge.  But,  met  by  a  solid  ridge  of 
steel  points,  and  mowed  down  by  the  rapid  volleys, 
they  could  not  advance  Yet,  disdaining  to  fly,  they 
sunk,  rank  after  rank,  in  their  footsteps,  "  each  stepping 
where  his  comrade  fell" — and  thus  for  four  mortal  hours, 
stood  breast  to  breast  with  their  foes,  receiving  the 
flashes  of  the  muskets  in  their  very  faces.  Never  before 
was  a  storm  so  resolutely  pressed — nothing  could  re- 
sist it — and  at  length,  as  night  drew  on,  the  enemy 
gave  way  and  fled,  and  a  parley  was  sounded.  The 
garrison  had  left  the  town,  but  the  next  morning  OHver 
pursued  them  and  killed  over  two  hundred  men. 

This  was  the  last  of  his  battles  in  Ireland,  and  hand- 
ing over  his  command  to  Ireton,  he  returned  to  Dublin, 
where  the  ship  President  was  waiting  for  him.  Having 
hastily  arranged  some  civil  matters,  and  given  his  in- 
struction?— he,  in  the  latter  part  of  May,  stepped  on 
board  and  set  sail  for  England. 

We  will  not  describe  the  manner  in  which  Ireton, 
brave  and  relentless  as  his  father-in-law,  completed  the 


292  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

subjugation  of  the  country.  The  same  system  was  car- 
ried out  until  Ireland  lay  completely  prostrate,  and  was 
compelled  to  receive  whatever  her  master  chose  to 
bestow. 


REVIEW     OF    THE    CAMPAIGN. 

Cromw^ell's  campaign  lasted  but  nine  months  in  all, 
yet  in  that  time,  he  had  accomplished  more  than  Eng- 
land had  ever  before  been  able  to  do  in  as  many  years. 
With  a  soul  of  fire  and  a  will  of  iron,  he  moved  with  his 
cannon  like  some  awful  impersonation  of  wrath,  from 
city  to  city  and  town  to  towai.  He  admitted  no  delay — 
the  moment  the  head  of  his  column  appeared  before  the 
walls,  his  trumpet  was  heard  summoning  the  garrison  to 
surrender.  He  did  not  even  wait  for  an  answ^er,  but 
commenced  planting  his  guns;  and  thundered  on  their 
fastnesses,  even  while  negotiations  were  going  on.  No 
sooner  did  his  shot  open  a  breach,  than  he  stormed 
through.  One  wild  protracted  wail  swelling  to  heaven — 
streets  cumbered  with  corpses  and  rippling  w^ith  blood, 
and  his  work  was  done  and  his  fierce  columns  again  in 
motion. 

The  rapidity  of  his  marches,  and  the  suddenness  of  his 
onsets,  imparted  still  more  terror  to  his  movements,  and 
the  blast  of  his  bugle  before  the  walls  of  a  town  sound- 
ed, to  the  terrified  inhabitants  w^ithin,  like  the  peal  of  the 
last  trumpet.  Lips  grew  pale  and  hearts  stopped  beat- 
ing, at  the  mention  of  his  name.  To  us,  he  does  not  in 
this  campaign  seem  to  be  Cromwell,  but  some  wrathful 


1650.]  DEFENCE     OF     IRISH     CAMPAIGN.  293 

spirit  from  the  other  world,  sent  on  a  commission  of  ven- 
geance. Defying  the  pestilence  that  walked  through  his 
army  at  "  noon-day" — with  gaunt  famine  in  his  rear — 
mercy  asleep  in  his  breast,  and  slaughter  written  in  ter- 
rific lines  on  his  corrugated  brow ;  he  moves  over  the 
land,  crushing  cities,  and  castles,  and  walled  towns  under 
his  feet,  as  if  they  were  but  the  playthings  of  an  hour. 

DEFENCE    OF    CROMWELL    IN    THIS    CAMPAIGN. 

Much  effort  has  been  made  by  the  friends  of  Crom- 
well, to  palliate  the  atrocities  of  this  war.  But  the  ex- 
cuses offered,  viz.,  that  he  had  only  a  short  time,  in 
which  to  effect  the  subjugation  of  the  country — that 
his  army  was  rapidly  wasting  away  by  sickness — that 
it  was  the  quickest  method  of  ending  hostilities,  &c., 
are  utterly  worthless;  and,  if  we  supposed  that  they 
were  the  motives  which  governed  him,  we  should  have 
no  faith  in  him  as  a  Christian — no  love  for  him,  as  a 
man.  Mr.  Carlyle  seems  to  think  the  plan  an  excellent 
one,  inasmuch  as  it  prevented  the  effusion  of  blood. 
Yes ;  but  supposing  Cromwell  had  not  always  been  vic- 
torious, and  the  Irish  had  retaliated  on  him  the  bloody 
warfare  he  adopted,  what  kind  of  a  campaign  would 
this  have  been?  A  succession  of  mutual  massacres 
such  as  the  world  never  beheld.  This  "doing  evil  that 
good  may  come,"  and  making  "  the  ends  justify  the 
means,"  is  considered,  in  our  times,  rather  doubtful 
morality. 

What  right  had  Cromwell  to  make  the  Irish  an  ex 


294  OLIVER     CROMWELL.  ^ 

ception  to  his  ordinary  mode  of  warfare  ?  Why  did  he 
not  impose  the  same  conditions  on  the  EngUsh  and 
Scotch  towns  that  he  invested  ?  What  if  he  had  butch- 
ered the  inhabitants  of  Bristol,  because  they  put  him 
to  the  trouble  of   storming    it  ?  In  what  respect 

v^ere  they  different  from  Drogheda  and  Wexford  ?  The 
simple  truth  is,  his  conduct  of  the  Irish  w^ar  was  savage 
and  ferocious — unworthy  of  a  civilized  man,  much 
more  of  a  Christian,  and  will  rest  a  spot  on  his  name 
to  the  end  of  time.  In  sacking  cities,  massacres  will 
sometimes  occur,  when  a  long  and  bloody  resistance 
has  so  exasperated  the  soldiers,  that  all  discipline  is 
lost.  Thus,  during  the  peninsular  war,  in  the  time  of 
Napoleon ;  in  the  sacking  of  St.  Sebastian  by  the  Eng- 
lish, and  the  storming  of  Oporto  by  the  French,  the  in- 
habitants were  slaughtered ;  but  the  officers  took  no  part 
in  it — nay,  exposed  their  lives  in  endeavoring  to  arrest 
the  violence.  But  here  we  have  a  Puritan  commander, 
w4io  prays  before  going  to  battle,  sings  psalms  in  the 
midst  of  the  fight,  and  writes  pastoral  letters  to  parlia- 
ment, not  permitting,  but  ordering,  massacres  to  be 
committed. 

Mr.  Carlyle  not  only  refuses  to  condemn  such  an  un- 
civilized mode  of  warfare,  but  stigmatizes  those  who 
have  some  objections  to  it,  a*  "  rose-water  surgeons." 
But,  to  make  light  of  those  atrocities,  which,  to  this 
day,  are  remembered  as  the  "Curse  of  Cromwell,"  is  car- 
rying "hero-worship"  a  little  too  far.  Should  we 
unfold  the  horror  and  cruelty;  depict,  in  full,  and 
accurately,  the  sufferings  and  cold-blooded  massacres 


1650.]         DEFENCE     OF     IRISH     c/aMPAIGN.  295 

connecied  with  this  Irish  war,  the  stern  face  of  Oliver 
would  ever  after  appear  streaked  with  blood. 

We  have  thus  spoken  as  condemnatory  of  his  con- 
duct towards  the  Irish,  as  if  he  had  butchered  the 
inhabitants  in  brutal  ferocity  or  fiendish  hate,  because 
we  wish  not  in  any  way  to  sanction  the  view  which 
Carlyle  takes.  But  though  there  can  be  no  apology  for 
such  a  mode  of  warfare,  there  may  be  for  the  man. 
The  character  is  indicated  more  by  the  motive  than  by 
the  act.  Now,  we  do  not  see  the  least  inconsistency  in 
Cromwell's  conduct  from  first  to  last.  The  very  sim- 
plicity with  which  he  gives  his  own  account  of  the 
affair,  shows  that  he  imagines  himself  to  be  acting  right. 
He  makes  no  apology — offers  no  excuses — throws  in  no 
palliation ;  but  tells  the  naked  facts,  as  if  it  were 
impossible  to  doubt  his  sincerity.  These  barbarous 
cruelties,  instead  of  furnishing  any  contradictions  to 
his  character,  illustrate  it.  They  prove  our  former 
statement,  that  he  was  acting  under  a  kind  of  hal- 
lucination, and  conceived  himself  a  special  agent  of 
God,  to  destroy  His  foes  and  establish  His  Church.  He 
fought  battles  precisely  on  the  principles  the  Israelites 
did  when  they  struggled  to  keep  possession  of  the  land 
of  Canaan.  The  Old  Testament  was  constantly  in  his 
mouth,  and  he  killed  men  as  coolly  as  Joshua.  The 
Scotch  and  English  being  Protestants,  he  regarded 
them  as  Judah  might  Dan  or  Manasseh  in  a  civil  war ; 
while  the  Irish  Papists  he  considered  as  Amalakites  or 
Moabites,  who  were  to  be  destroyed  as  enemies  of 
\he  Lord.     This  is  evident  from  the  language  he  uses 


296  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

in  his  despatches  to  parliament.  After  stating  what  he 
has  done  in  perfect  candor  and  fairness,  knowing  that 
it  will  stand  registered  against  him  to  the  end  of  time, 
he  says:  "I  am  persuaded  that  this  is  a  righteous 
judgment  of  God  upon  these  barbarous  wretches,  who 
have  imbrued  their  hands  in  so  much  innocent  blood ; 
and  that  it  will  tend  to  prevent  the  effusion  of  blood  for 
the  future  ;  which  are  the  satisfactory  grounds  to  such 
actions,  ivhich  otherwise  cannot  hut  work  remorse  and 
regret."  Nor  is  it  strange  that  he  should  have  enter- 
tained these  erroneous  views.  When  we  remember 
that  the  Protestants  solemnly  believed  themselves  to  be 
the  true  church  and  the  Papists  heathen ;  how^  the  formei 
had  been  massacred  ;  and  also  the  peculiar  views  of  the 
Puritans  respecting  "  the  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gid- 
eon," we  cannot  wonder  that  Cromwell  regarded  him- 
self as  commisioned  to  avenge  the  slaughter  of  the 
saints,  whose  bones  lay  bleaching  on  the  moors  of  Ire- 
land. Justice  and  judgment  were  the  only  mottoes  on 
his  sword ;  and  he  verily  believed  himself  to  be  execut- 
ing both. 

If  he  had  not  been  borne  up  by  some  such  lofty 
sentiment  as  this,  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  he 
could  have  saved  England  from  tyranny  first,  and  from 
a  war  of  factions  afterwards.  ^To  such  a  man  there  is 
no  wavering  of  purpose — -no  confusion  of  thought.  The 
complicated  motives  and  fears  which  distract  the  mere 
political  leader  he  knows  nothing  of  With  one  grand 
object  in  view,  he  presses  steadily  towards  it — erring,  it 
may  be,  in  his  means,  but  not  in  his  motives.     To  make 


1650.]  DEFENCE     OF     IRISH     CAMPAIGN.  297 

no  allowance  for  the  expectations  or  impressions  that 
guide  one,  and  judge  him  by  his  acts  alone,  would 
be  to  condemn  all  the  great  warriors  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment as  cut-throats.  We  have  no  doubt  Cromwell  con- 
sidered himself  as  much  commissioned  by  the  Lord  as 
ever  David  did.  As  he  took  no  glory  to  himself  from 
his  victories,  so  he  felt  no  blame  in  the  slaughters  that 
preceded  them.  It  was  the  work  of  the  Lord,  from  first 
to  last ;  and  he  gave  him  all  the  glory,  not  doubting 
that  he  took  all  the  responsibility.  It  is  true,  he  had 
no  right  to  this  impression,  for  he  had  received  no 
revelation  from  God.  The  warriors  of  Israel  obtained 
their  commission  from  Heaven,  through  its  own  ap- 
pointed medium ;  and  hence,  their  bloody  wars  were  no 
more  nor  less  than  divine  justice.  But  Cromwell  had 
received  no  such  commission  in  his  Irish  massacres, 
and  to  believe  that  he  had,  argued  a  want  of  moral 
sense  which  mars  very  much  the  excellency  of  his 
character.  Still,  it  was  an  error  of  the  intellect  rather 
than  of  the  heart ;  and  sprung  from  that  very  belief 
without  which  he  could  not  have  succeeded.  Indeed, 
when  we  take  into  consideration  the  bitter  animosity 
that  existed  between  the  Puritans  and  Papists,  and  the 
pious  horror  with  which  the  former  regarded  the  latter, 
especially  after  the  protracted  massacres  in  Ireland,  it 
seems  an  error  inseparable  from  his  belief  Under  the 
same  circumstances — surrounded  by  the  same  influ- 
ences, and  carried  aw^ay  by  the  same  enthusiasm,  who 
of  us  would  have  acted  differently  ? 

Those  who  attempt  to  sustain  the  stale  charge  of  hy- 


298  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

pocrisy,  from  his  conduct  in  this  campaign,  would  do  well 
to  explain  why  he  affected  no  concealment — offered  no 
explanations.  A  hypocrite,  methinks,  who'  knew  him- 
self to  be  playing  the  villain,  would  take  some  pains  to 
cover  up  his  actions — at  least,  not  be,  himself,  the  most 
faithful  historian  of  them.  It  is  true,  that  his  language 
and  his  actions,  present,  at  times,  a  striking  contrast ; 
and  some  key  is  necessary  to  unlock  the  mystery 
which  surrounds  them;  for,  certainly,  there  is  a  mys- 
tery. But  this  key  is  not  hyjiocrisy.  To  say  that  he 
used  his  religion  as  a  cloak  with  which  to  cover  up  his 
violent  acts,  involves  a  still  greater  inconsistency  than 
the  one  it  seeks  to  explain.  It  is  much  more  rational 
to  suppose,  that  he  w^as  under  the  influence  of  a  cer- 
tain religious  fanaticism — a  wrong  idea  of  his  mission, 
than  to  assert  that  he  intentionally  and  blasphemously 
used  the  name  of  God  to  conceal  his  deep-laid  am- 
bition. To  say  that  he  snatched  a  few^  moments,  from 
his  fierce  battles,  to  write  to  his  children,  bidding  them 
fear  God,  and  keep  his  commandments — or  to  his  inti- 
mate friends,  giving  them  a  minute  account  of  his 
spiritual  experience,  solely  because  he  wished  to  play 
the  hypocrite,  or,  in  other  w^ords,  to  serve  the  devil 
without  any  provocation,  is  carrying  prejudice  beyond 
the  bounds  of  reason.  The  speeches  and  letters  of  a 
man,  both  public  and  private,  through  a  series  of  years, 
must  reveal  his  character,  if  anything  will.  But,  w^e 
have  nearly  two  hundred  letters,  written  in  various 
periods  of  his  life,  to  persons  of  every  description,  even 
to  his  wife   and  children,  in  all   the  frankness  of  pa- 


1650.]  SETTLEMENT     OF     IRELAND.  299 

rental  affection ;  and  yet,  no  inconsistency  in  his  cha- 
racter is  seen.  Those  who  term  him  a  hypocrite,  will, 
perhaps,  explain  this  fact — one,  we  imagine,  wholly  un- 
explainable  on  the  ground  they  take.  Before  the  idea 
of  power  had  dawned  on  his  mind,  or  he  had  even 
dreamed  a  letter  of  his  would  be  seen,  except  by  his 
family,  he  utters  the  same  religious  phrases,  indulges  in 
the  same  religious  sentiments,  which,  repeated  in  pub- 
lic, bring  upon  him  the  charge  of  cant,  hypocrisy,  and 
design. 

Much  has  been  said  of  the  unjust  manner  in  which 
Ireland  was  finally  settled.  Confiscations  were,  doubt- 
less, extensive  and  heavy — indeed,  poor  Ireland  has 
always  been  confiscated  to  death.  It  has  made  no  dif- 
ference, whether  fighting  for  her  king  or  against  him, 
she  was  sure  to  be  confiscated.  Clarendon  states,  and 
Villemain  has  adopted  the  ridiculous  error,  that  all 
the  Irish  Catholics  were  driven  into  Connaught,  and 
shut  up  there  on  pain  of  death,  if  they  attempted  to 
leave.  One  would  think  that  the  idea  of  crowding  all 
Catholic  Ireland  into  one  province,  was  so  preposterous 
in  itself,  that  nobody  w^ould  give  the  statement  credence 
for  a  moment. 

Without  entering  into  details,  the  outline  of  the 
plan  of  settlement  was  this :  First,  all  the  ringleaders 
who  had  been  engaged  in  the  massacre  of  1641, 
were,  on  conviction,  to  be  put  to  death,  or  banish- 
ed as  the  court  should  decree.  Second,  those  not 
engaged  in  the  massacre,  but  had  borne  arms  against 
parliament,  were  to  forfeit  two-thirds  of  their  estates, 


300  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

and  be  banished  during  the  pleasure  of  parHament,  or 
receive  the  value  of  the  remaining  third  in  land  in 
Connaught ;  while  those  who,  choosing  to  remain  neu- 
tral, had  refused  to  take  up  arms  for  the  common- 
wealth, were  to  forfeit  one-third  or  one-fifth  of  theii 
estates,  and  remain  in  quiet  possession  of  the  remain- 
der. These  severe  enactments,  however,  affected  only 
the  upper  classes,  w^hile  "all  husbandmen,  ploughmen, 
laborers,  artificers,  and  others  of  the  mean  sort,  icere  to 
he  asked  no  questions,  and  to  receive  no  punishment.^' 
The  design  of  parliament,  in  putting  these  severe  con- 
litions  on  Ireland,  w^as,  no  doubt,  to  give  the  pre- 
ponderance to  the  Protestants,  who  succeeded  to  the 
confiscated  estates. 

These  heavy  enactments  were  rigorously  carried  out, 
and  the  flower  of  the  kingdom  fled  into  foreign  lands, 
and  took  refuge  in  foreign  service.  The  performance 
of  Catholic  ceremonies  w^as  made  a  capital  offence,  and 
the  priests  were  hunted  down  like  common  felons. 
"  Priest-hunting  hecame  a  favorite  field  sport,"  says  a 
certain  writer.  This  is,  doubtless,  a  gross  exaggeration ; 
but  the  persecution  of  the  Papists  w^as  rigorous  in  the 
extreme.  Still,  Ireland  flourished  under  this  yoke  of 
iron,  as  it  never  had  done  before — public  order  was 
restored— the  laws  were  respected — industry  revived 
and,  in  the  language  of  Clarendon,  "  all  this  was  done 
and  settled,  within  less  than  two  years,  to  that  degree 
of  perfection,  that  there  were  many  buildings  raised  for 
beauty  as  well  as  use — orderly  and  regular  plantations 
of  trees,  and  fences,  and  enclosures,  raised  throughout 


3650.]       CHARACTER  OF  CHARLES.         301 

the  kingdom — purchases  made  by  one  from  the  other, 
at  very  valuable  rates — adjointures  made  upon  mar- 
riages, and  all  other  conveyances  and  settlements  ex- 
isted, as  in  a  kingdom  of  peace,  within  itself,  wherein 
no  doubt  could  be  made  of  the  solidity  of  titles."  Such 
was  the  result  of  the  settlement  made  by  the  Puritan 
commonwealth. 

To  show  that  Cromwell  was  not  peculiar  in  his  treat- 
ment of  Ireland,  we  would  refer  the  reader  to  the 
administrations  of  the  two  Charles's,  who  preceded  and 
came  after  him — to  the  bill  of  rights,  called  "Graces,"  on 
the  promise  of  granting  which,  Charles  I.  received  money 
to  the  amount  of  a  half  a  million  of  dollars,  and  then 
broke  his  royal  word — and  last  of  all  to  the  terrible  admin- 
istration of  Strafford,  which  ended  in  a  rebelhon.  This, 
of  course,  produced  confiscation ;  and,  in  ten  days,  "  bills 
of  indictment,  for  high  treason,  were  found  against  all 
the  Catholic  nobility  and  gentry  in  the  counties  of  Meath, 
Wicklow,  and  Dublin,  and  three  hundred  gentlemen  in 
the  county  of  Kildare.  These  are  but  a  small  portion 
of  the  tender  mercies  of  Charles  I.,  the  blessed  martyr. 
Charles  II.,  when  he  ascended  the  throne,  instead  of 
reversing  the  settlement  made  by  the  commonwealth, 
established  it.  These  things  are  mentioned,  to  show 
that  the  cruel  course  pursued  by  parliament,  towards  the 
Irish,  was  not  an  exception,  but  the  carrying  out  of  a 
general  rule.  This  makes  a  vast  difference — if  the 
confiscations  and  persecutions  under  the  Puritans  stood 
by  themselves,  distinct  and  separate  monuments  of  op- 
pression, as  their  enemies  imply,  a  strong  case  might 


302  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

be  made  out  against  their  character.  But  when  we 
remember  they  carried  out  a  system  which  had  prece- 
dents enough  to  make  it  constitutional,  w^e  pass  the 
crime  from  sects  over  to  the  nation.  The  adminis- 
tration of  Strafford,  able  though  it  is  granted  to  have 
been,  was  one  of  the  most  unjust  under  which  the  Irish 
ever  suffered.  The  truth  is,  Ireland  has  ever  been 
regarded  as  so  much  common  plunder,  by  England. 
From  the  twelfth  century  till  now,  she  lias,  with 
scarcely  one  protracted  interval,  suffered  under  the  yoke 
of  her  haughty  mistress ;  and  it  is  not  just  to  select  out 
one  period  in  order  to  stab  repubhcanism.  We  have 
read  history  of  modern  civilization  pretty  thoroughly, 
and  yet,  we  know  of  no  examples  of  violated  faith, 
broken  treaties,  corruption,  bribery,  violence,  and  op- 
pression, compared  to  those  which  the  history  of  the 
English  and  Irish  connexion  presents. 

If  the  Commonwealth  had  lasted,  Ireland  would  have 
been  a  Protestant  kingdom,  and  her  subsequent  mis- 
fortunes avoided. 


CHAPTER   X. 

INVASION    OF    SCOTLAND.    1650-1651. 

Cromwell  Lands  in  England — His  Reception — Accepts  Command  of 
the  Army  Destined  for  Scotland — Charles  II. — His  Base  Conduct — 
Cromwell  Marches  North — Enters  Scotland — Strives  in  Vain  to  Pro- 
voke Lesley  to  Give  Battle — Lambert  Wounded — Movements  Around 
Edinburgh — Battle  of  Dunbar — Cromwell  Invests  Edinburgh  Castle 
— Marches  to  Glasgow — Interviews  with  a  Scotch  Minister — Out- 
flanks the  Scotch  at  Stirling,  and  Compels  Them  to  Evacuate  the 
Place — The  Scotch  Invade  England — Pursued  by  Cromwell — Battle 
of  Worcester — Review  of  Cromwell's  Career. 

Cromwell  had  a  stormy  passage  across  the  channel 
— quite  in  keeping  with  the  Hfe  he  had  led  for  the  last 
nine  months — but,  at  length,  arrived  safely  at  Bristol. 
No  sooner  were  his  colors  seen  flying  from  the  mast, 
than  the  town  W' as  in  an  uproar ;  and,  amid  the  firing  of 
cannon,  and  shouts  of  the  populace,  he  once  more  set 
foot  on  the  shore  of  England.  His  journey  to  London 
was  one  triumphal  march,  and  when  he  reached  Hyde 
Park  the  city  shook  to  the  acclamations  of  the  multi- 
tude and  the  roar  of  guns.  After  resting  a  few  days, 
he  took  his  seat  in  parliament,  and  was  welcomed  by 
a  vote  of  thanks,  accompanied  by  a  highly  eulogistic 
speech  from  Speaker  Lenthall.  Cromwell  replied, 
giving  a  full  account  of  affairs  in  Ireland,  and  the  plan 
he  had  marked  out  for  Ireton. 


304  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Ireland  being  thus  disposed  of,  it  became  the  Com- 
monwealth to  turn  its  attention  to  other  enemies  who 
threatened  its  existence.  France,  domineering  at  sea, 
plundered  English  merchantmen — some  of  the  remote 
colonial  possessions  were  in  revolt;  while  Scilly,  Jersey, 
and  the  Isle  of  Man,  refusing  to  acknowledge  the 
government,  carried  on  a  piratical  war  against  English 
commerce.  But  the  chief  danger,  and  that  w^hich  de- 
manded immediate  attention,  was  the  attitude  of  Scot- 
land. The  mad  attempt  of  Montrose,  who  had  landed 
from  the  Continent,  and  endeavored  to  overthrow  the 
kirk  party,  Scotch,  parliamentary  army,  and  all;  had  prov- 
ed a  failure,  and  the  unfortunate  nobleman  been  hung  on 
a  gallows  thirty  feet  high,  and  his  body  divided  into  four 
quarters,  been  stuck  up  over  the  gates  of  the  four  chief 
towns  in  the  kingdom.  Charles  11.  who  was  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  movement,  then  attempted  to  make  a  treaty 
with  the  Scotch,  and  commissioners  were  sent  from  Ed- 
inburgh to  Breda,  in  the  Netherlands,  to  confer  with  him. 
This  dissolute,  unprincipled,  youth — with  none  of  the  vir- 
tues, and  all  the  deceit  and  faithlessness  of  his  father, 
finding  no  other  means  left  him  to  obtain  the  crown, 
acceded  to  the  hard  conditions  imposed  upon  him,  and 
set  sail  in  seven  Dutch  ships  for  Scotland.  Before  he 
landed  he  signed  the  Scotch  covenant,  by  which  he  bound 
himself  to  root  out  the  Episcopal  Church :  he  was  then 
entertained  with  long  sermons  and  prayers,  which  he 
bore  like  a  martyr.  As  he  passed  Aberdeen,  on  his  way 
to  Edinburgh,  he  saw  one  of  the  limbs  of  Montrose  still 
hanging,  blackened  and  weather-beaten,  over  the  gate. 


1650.]  BASENESS        OF     CHARLES     II.  305 

He  eventually  crowrxed  his  hypocrisy  and  baseness 
by  signing  a  declaration,  in  which  he  gave  thanks  to 
God  for  his  timely  conversion ;  expressed  his  deep 
sorrow  at  his  father's  wickedness,  and  horror  of  his 
mother's  idolatry;  and  swore  eternal  hostihty  to  popery 
in  every  part  of  his  realm.  To  sink  this  contemptible 
prince,  whose  beastly  crimes  afterwards  made  England 
a  bye- word  among  the  nations  of  Europe,  still  deeper 
in  disgrace,  the  Scotch,  before  crowning  him,  re- 
quired him  to  undergo  a  public  humiliation,  and  in 
the  presence  of  the  people  repeat  his  abhorrence  of  his 
father's,  grandfather's,  and  mother's  acts;  and  perjure 
himself  by  solemnly  avowing,  that  he  sought  the  throne 
solely  for  the  advancement  of  religion.  He  took  the 
covenant  three  times  with  this  terrible  oath :  "  By  the 
Eternal  and  Almighty  God,  who  liveth  and  reigneth 
forever,  I  will  observe  and  keep  all  that  is  contained 
therein." 

It  was  on  account  of  these  movements  that  parlia- 
ment recalled  Cromwell  from  Ireland.  After  some 
discussion  respecting  the  course  to  be  adopted,  it  was 
resolved  not  to  permit  the  enemy,  as  heretofore,  to  cross 
the  border,  and  lay  waste  the  kingdom ;  but  to  take  the 
initial  themselves,  and  invade  Scotland.  Fairfax,  on 
account  of  some  Presbyterian  scruples,  or,  more  proba- 
bly, at  the  instigation  of  his  wife,  refused  to  receive  the 
command,  and  Cromwell,  after  vainly  attempting  to 
persuade  him  to  change  his  mind,  at  length,  reluctantly, 
accepted  it  himself.  Not  yet  rested  from  his  severe 
Irish  campaign,  he,  nevertheless,  would  not  decline,  and 


306  OLIVER    CROMWELL. 

again  summoned  his  energies  for  war.  Before  depart- 
ing, he  took  Ludlow  into  a  private  room,  and  discoursed 
with  him  on  matters  in  Ireland — on  the  ungodly  cha- 
racter of  English  lawyers  and  law,  and  finally  passed 
into  a  lengthy  exposition  of  the  hundred-and-tenth 
psalm,  "  The  Lord  at  thy  right-hand,  shall  strike  through 
kings  in  the  day  of  his  wrath  ;  he  shall  judge  among 
the  heathen ;  he  shall  fill  the  places  with  dead  bodies ; 
he  shall  w^ound  the  heads  over  many  countries,  &c. ;"  a 
prophecy  which  he  set  about  fulfilling  in  a  way  most 
likely  to  secure  its  accomplishment. 

With  his  accustomed  rapidity  of  movement,  he,  three 
days  after  his  appointment,  (June  28th,)  was  on  his  w^ay 
to  the  North,  whither  the  troops  w^ere  already  marching. 
Processions,  acclamations,  and  salvos  of  cannon,  at- 
tended his  passage.  At  York,  they  gave  him  a  grand 
dinner ;  at  Darnton,  the  artillery  saluted  him  as  he 
swept  past,  and  at  Newcastle,  a  magnificent  reception 
was  prepared.  Lambert,  as  major-general,  Whalley, 
Overton,  Pride,  and  the  renowned  and  afterwards  infa- 
mous Monk,  were  the  chief  officers  w^ho  accompanied 
him.  At  Newcastle,  they  had  a  solemn  meeting  for  con- 
ference and  prayer;  and  the  lord-general  prayed  and 
talked  more  like  a  parson  than  a  military  chieftain,  with 
his  band  of  heroes. 

Having  arranged  everything,  he  at  length  set  out  for 
Berwick,  the  place  of  rendezvous ;  and  on  the  20th  of 
July,  reviewed  the  troops  on  Haggerston  moor.  Five 
thousand  four  hundred  and  fifteen  cavalry,  noble  steeds 
and  brave  riders  as  ever  rushed  to  the  shock  ;  ten  thou- 


1650.]  ENTERS     SCOTLAND.  307 

sand  two  hundred  and  forty-nine  foot,  and  a  splendid  train 
of  artillery,  consisting  of  six  hundred  and  ninety ;  in 
all,  over  sixteen  thousand  well  appointed  men  consti- 
tuted this  immortal  army.  Oliver  rode  slowly  along 
their  glittering  ranks  ;  and  his  eye  took  a  prouder  look, 
as  he  thought  of  the  might  and  terror  with  which  they 
could  be  hurled  on  the  foe.  That  night,  they  encamped 
on  the  banks  of  the  Tweed ;  and  the  inhabitants 
frightened  at  the  sudden  appearance,  kindled  their 
beacon  fires,  and  leaving  their  homes,  fled  nortb^vard. 
This  army  had  been  reported  to  them  as  a  collection  of 
monsters,  whose  cruelty  spared  neither  age  nor  sex; 
and  hence  their  sudden  flight. 

Ten  days  after  the  rendezvous,  Cromwell  drew  his 
forces  forward  to  a  place  from  which  this  Scotch  ter- 
ritory was  in  full  view.  Halting  them  there,  he  pointed 
to  the  scene  of  their  future  labors,  and  exhorted  them 
to  be  faithful  and  brave,  and  God  would  smile  on  their 
efforts.  A  deafening  shout  rolled  through  the  ranks, 
and  then  the  line  of  march  was  resumed.  That  night, 
the  army  quartered  in  Scotland,  at  Mordington.  Crom- 
well here  issued  a  proclamation  forbidding  any  one,  on 
pain  of  death,  to  plunder  or  offer  violence  to  the  peace- 
ful inhabitants  of  the  country,  through  which  they 
should  pass.  He,  also,  in  order  to  keep  his  forces 
compact,  ordered  that  no  soldier,  without  special  license, 
should  venture  at  any  time  more  than  a  half  a  mile 
from  the  main  army.  A  proclamation  was  also  issued 
to  the  Scotch  people,  giving  the  lie  to  slanders  that  had 


308  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

been  promulgated  by  the  Scotch  clergy  and  parliament 
against  the  English  troops. 

On  Thursday,  the  25th,  the  army  began  to  advance, 
and  the  next  day,  reached  Dunbar,  and  found  the  trans- 
ports laden  with  provisions,  in  the  harbor.  It  then 
moved  to  Haddington,  within  twelve  miles  of  Edin- 
burgh, and  encamped.  On  Sunday,  hearing  that  the 
Scotch  were  advancing  to  give  battle,  Cromwell,  early 
in  the  morning,  ordered  the  drums  to  beat  to  arms,  and 
quickly  arrayed  his  troops.  Rapidly  forming,  the  cav- 
alry went  clattering  forward,  followed  close  by  the  eager 
columns,  as  they  hurried  on  to  get  possession  of  Glad- 
ston  Moor,  before  the  enemy.  But  the  report  proving 
false,  Oliver  sent  forward  Lambert  and  Whalley  with 
fourteen  hundred  horse,  to  Musselburgh,  to  reconnoitre ; 
while  he  follow^ed  with  the  main  body.  These  com- 
manders soon  came  upon  the  Scotch  army,  24,000 
strong,  firmly  entrenched  between  Edinburgh  and 
Leith ;  while  nearly  their  whole  line  w^as  raked  by 
the  guns  of  the  latter  place.  Cromwell,  on  discerning 
the  strength  of  the  position,  wisely  resolved  not  to  haz- 
ard an  attack. 

Notwithstanding  his  superiority  of  numbers,  old 
Lesley,  the  commander-in-chief,  would  not  offer  battle 
in  the  open  field: — he  knew  Oliver  too  well — he  had 
fought  by  his  side  at  Marston  Moor,  and  seen  the  wild 
work  his  Ironsides  made,  when  given  fair  charging- 
ground ;  and  he  lay  snug  behind  his  works.  The  latter, 
however,  moved  up  his  cannon  within  long  range,  and 
also  took  King  Arthur's  Hill,  which  stood  within  a 


1650.1  LAMBERT     WOUNDED.  309 

mile  of  Edinburgh,  and  overlooked  the  city  and  the 
enemy.  Nothing  else  was  attempted  that  day ;  while, 
to  discourage  the  soldiers  still  more,  a  heavy  rain  storm 
set  in,  and  continued  all  night,  drenching  them  to  the 
skin.  Most  of  them  had  nothing  but  the  damp  earth  to 
rest  upon;  yet,  they  never  murmured,  hoping  for  a 
battle  next  day.  But,  in  the  morning,  Cromwell  gave  the 
orders  to  retreat  to  their  encampment  at  Musselburgh. 

While  the  army  was  executing  this  order,  and  stea- 
dily falling  back,  the   Scotch  made  a  sally  upon  the 
rear-guard,  and  threw  it  into  confusion.     But  a  large 
body  of   horse,  galloping    to    the    rescue,   they   were 
quickly  repulsed.     Lesley,  however,  sending  out  heavy 
re-inforcements,    they    rallied,    and    returned    to    the 
charge;    and,  for  awhile,  it  was  a  close  and   hot  con- 
test.    But  Lambert  and  Whalley,  who  commanded  the 
rear— enraged  at  their  first  repulse,  now  poured  their 
enthusiastic  troops  to  the  charge,  with  such  impetuosity, 
that  the  enemy,  after  a  short,  but  desperate  struggle, 
broke,  and  fled.    The  blood  of  the  republicans  was  now 
fairly  up,  and  pressing  after  the  flying  foe,  they  charged 
to  the  very  trenches.     Among  the  foremost— leading  on 
their  troops,  and  fighting  like  common  soldiers,  rode 
Lambert  and  Whalley,  their  swords  drinking  blood  at 
every  step.     At  length,  Lambert's  horse,  struck  by  two 
balls,  plunged  forward,  and  fell  dead.     Immediately  two 
lances  pierced  the  prostrate    rider— one    pinning    his 
arm  to  the  earth,  and  the  other  entering  his  body— and 
he  was  made  prisoner.     This  would  have  been  a  sad 
day  for  OUver,  had  not  one  of  his  own  lieutenants,  see- 


310  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

ing  the  danger  of  the  major-general,  dashed  resolutely 
forward,  and,  at  the  peril  of  his  own  life,  gallantly 
rescued  him.  Whalley,  who  saw  the  general  fall,  shouted 
to  his  men  to  charge ;  and,  falling,  like  an  overturned 
cliff,  with  his  entire  regiment,  on  the  victorious  enemy, 
broke  them  into  fragments,  and  sent  them  in  terror  be- 
hind their  works. 

This  ended  the  day's  fight;  and  Cromwell  was 
allowed  to  draw  off  his  army,  without  farther  moles- 
tation— bearing  his  wounded  major-general  with  him. 
He  encamped,  that  night,  at  Musselburgh;  and  the 
weary  and  wet  soldiers  lay  down  to  rest.  But,  between 
three  and  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  they  were  aroused 
by  the  hurried  beat  of  drums,  the  cry  of  "  To  arms!"  and 
the  tramp  of  charging  squadrons.  Major-Generals 
Montgomery  and  Strahan,  hoping  to  take  the  repub- 
licans by  surprise,  had  suddenly  fallen,  with  fifteen  hun- 
dred horse,  on  the  camp ;  and  driving  in  the  guards, 
broken  a  regiment  of  horse  which  Cromw^ell  had  order- 
ed to  hold  itself  in  readiness,  in  case  of  an  attack.  But 
it  was  no  easy  matter  to  send  a  panic  through  this  dis- 
cipHned  host;  and,  though  in  the  darkness  and  con- 
fusion they  supposed  the  whole  Scotch  army  was  upon 
them,  they  rallied  with  the  utmost  precision  and  stea- 
diness ;  and  charging  the  enemy  in  turn,  routed  them — ■ 
pursuing  and  slaying  the  fugitives  even  to  the  gates  of 
Edinburgh.  Several  inferior  officers  were  killed  and 
taken  prisoners  ;  and  Strahan  himself,  had  to  foot  it 
into  the  town,  to  escape  being  taken. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  proclamation  Cromwell  issued 


1650.]  HIS     LETTER     TO     THE     SCOTCH.  311 

at  Berwick,  to  the  people  of  Scotland.  The  general 
assembly  answered  it,  with  a  long  counter  declaration ; 
to  which  a  reply  was  sent,  drawn  up,  doubtless,  by 
some  of  the  chaplains  in  the  army.  Cromwell  accom- 
panied this  with  a  letter  of  his  own,  to  the  general 
assembly,  in  which  he  gave  them  some  very  useful 
hints ;  and  wound  up  by  advising  them  to  read  "  the 
twenty-eighth  of  Isaiah,  from  the  fifth  to  the  fifteenth 
verse."  The  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  verses  are  as  fol- 
lows :  "  But  the  word  of  the  Lord  was  unto  them,  pre- 
cept upon  precept — ^precept  upon  precept;  line  upon 
line — line  upon  line ;  here  a  little  and  there  a  little,  that 
they  might  go  and  fall  backward,  and  be  broken,  and 
snared,  and  taken.  Wherefore,  hear  the  word  of  the 
Lord,  ye  scornful  men,  that  rule  this  people  which  is  in 
Jerusalem."  We  suspect  he  meant  to  have  them  read 
from  the  fifth  to  the  fifteenth  inclusive — the  last  being 
more  pat  than  all  the  rest,  as  applied  to  the  bargain  and 
agreement  they  had  just  made  with  Charles  II.  "  Be- 
cause ye  -have  said,  we  have  made  a  covenant  with 
death,  and  with  hell  are  we  at  agreement,  when  the 
overflowing  scourge  shall  pass  through,  it  shall  not  come 
unto  us ;  for  w^e  have  made  lies  our  refuge,  and  under 
falsehoods  have  we  hid  ourselves."  The  Presbyterian 
divines,  doubtless,  found  this  rather  "strong  meat,"  and 
not  designed  for  "babes  and  sucklings," 

Two  days  after  the  date  of  this  letter,  Cromwell 
marched  his  army  through  the  storm,  back  to  Dunbar, 
to  get  supplies  from  his  ships.  The  Scots,  supposing  it 
to  be  a  retreat,  had  a  day  of  solemn  thanksgiving  and 


312  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

rejoicing,  over  their  great  deliverance.  But  the  pre- 
sence of  his  advance-guard  at  Musselburgh  again  on 
the  12th,  checked  their  premature  joy. 

Finding  it  useless  to  attempt  to  drive  Lesley  out  of 
his  entrenchments  by  occupying  in  front  of  him,  he 
now  removed  to  Pentland  Hills,  so  as  to  cut  off  his  sup- 
plies, and  thus  provoke  him  to  battle.  In  the  mean- 
time, another  declaration  was  received  from  the  kirk  and 
states,  repelling  Cromwell's  insinuations  and  quietly 
charging  him  with  falsehood.  Oliver  replied,  making 
good  his  first  assertions.  This  correspondence  was  car- 
ried on  by  him  for  the  sake  of  enlightening  the  honest 
portion  of  the  Presbyterian  party,  and  to  induce  them  to 
reject  the  league  with  Charles. 

He  lay  two  weeks  longer  around  Edinburgh — march- 
ing now  on  this  side,  now  on  that,  using  every  means 
to  tempt  Lesley  out  of  his  intrenchments,  but  in  vain. 
On  the  14th  of  August,  he  stormed  a  small  garrison 
within  a  mile  and  a  half  of  the  city  and  in  sight  of  the 
whole  Scotch  army,  and  took  it.  A  week  after  this, 
Lesley  sent  some  officers  to  him  to  hold  a  conference 
about  the  aspersion  he  had  cast  upon  them  saying,  they 
were  "  afraid  to  come  out  of  their  trenches  and  holes 
and  fight  like  men  who  had  a  good  cause."  Cromwell 
was  glad  to  find  that  his  taunts  had  told,  and  hoped  to 
bring  matters  to  some  point — for  the  next  morning  the 
Scotch  army  drew  off  towards  Stirling.  He  immedi- 
ately put  his  troops  in  motion,  but  when  he  came  in 
front  of  the  enemy,  he  saw^  that  they  had  placed  a  wide 
bog  between  them  and  him.     Provoked  by  this  decep- 


1650.]  RETREATS     TO     DUNBAR.  313 

tion,  he  commenced  a  tremendous  cannonade  over 
the  morass,  which  he  kept  up  all  day.  The  Scotch 
answered,  till  the  Pentland  Hills  and  old  Edinburgh 
Castle  shook  with  the  heavy  explosions.  Capt.  Hodg- 
son's company  were  at  prayers,  when  a  cannon-ball 
came  singing  past  them,  just  (according  to  the  gallant 
captain)  as  they  reached  the  word  "Amen ;"  but,  we 
suspect,  the  word  "Amen"  was  uttered  just  as  the 
cannon-ball  went  singing  past.  Oliver  taught  his  men 
to  pray  before  and  after  the  battle,  but  not  in  it.  At 
Marston  Moor,  an  officer  whom  he  ordered  to  charge 
began  to  pray,  when  he  pressed  a  cocked  pistol  to  his 
temple,  and  bade  him  stop  praying  and  charge  at 
once,  or  he  w^ould  blow  his  brains  out.  He  acted  on 
the  maxim,  "  there  is  a  time  for  all  things." 

Several  were  killed  in  this  skirmish,  on  both  sides ; 
but  Cromwell  seeing  no  benefit  resulting  from  so 
distant  firing,  withdrew  his  troops,  and  encamped  that 
night,  in  a  tempest  of  wind  and  rain,  within  a  mile  of 
Edinburgh. 

Lesley,  finding  that  the  republican  army  had  become 
sadly  reduced  by  sickness,  now  attempted  to  play  on 
Oliver  the  game  he  had  been  so  long  practising  on 
him,  and  cut  off  his  supplies,  by  interposing  between  him 
and  his  shipping.  But  the  latter,  getting  wind  of  it, 
"  fired  his  huts  that  Saturday  night,"  and  began  his 
march  towards  Dunbar,  where  his  ships  lay.  Lesley 
hung  threateningly  on  his  rear,  and  several  skirmishes 
took  place  between  separate  detachments  of  horse — but 
the  Scotch  dared  not  risk  a  close  engagement  All 
14 


314  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

that  day,  Sunday,  the  sick  and  wasted  army  fell  steadily 
back,  until,  at  length,  it  drew  up  in  front  of  Dunbar, 
resolved  to  make  a  stand  there  by  the  ships.  In  the 
meantime,  Lesley's  columns  gathered  in  a  thick  cloud 
upon  Doon  Hill,  that  overlooked  it.  Cromwell's  troops 
had  perished  so  fast,  that  out  of  the  noble  army  he  led 
over  the  borders  only  eleven  thousand  now  remained  fit 
for  service. 

BATTLE    OF    DUNBAR. 

The  spot  on  which  Oliver  drew  up  his  httle  army, 
was  a  small,  narrow,  tongue  of  land,  running  out  into 
the  Frith  of  Forth — high  and  bleak  near  w^here  it  joined 
the  mainland,  and  overlooking,  on  either  side,  the  rest- 
less ocean.  The  town  of  Dunbar  w^as  behind  him — a 
single  mansion,  Brocksmouth  House,  faced  his  extreme 
left — else  there  w^as  not  a  covering  on  the  desolate  eX' 
pause,  save  one  hut,  into  which  the  cannon  w^ere  carried 
to  shelter  them  from  the  rain,  which  fell  in  torrents. 

On  this  bleak  and  narrow  peninsula,  only  a  mile  and  a 
half  wdde  at  its  base,  behold  the  white  tents  of  Cromwell's 
army !  In  front  of  him,  landward,  is  a  desolate,  unpass- 
able  moor,  with  a  low  ridge  of  hills  beyond,  on  which 
stands  the  Scotch  army,  twenty-three  thousand  strong 
At  the  base  of  these  runs  a  small  streamlet,  forty  feet 
wide  and  almost  as  many  deep  ;  furnishing  only  two 
passes  over  which  troops  can  march.  Cromwell's  ships 
are  in  the  offing,  his  now  last  remaining  resource:  the 
lion  is  at  length  caught,  and  the  prey  deemed  secure. 


1650.]  BATTLE      OF     DUNBAR.  315 

On  the  second  of  September,  Oliver  looks  forth  from 
the  desolate  heath,  on  which  his  army  is  drawn  up  in 
order  of  battle ;  and,  io !  what  a  sight  meets  his  gaze. 
Behind  him  is  the  sea,  swept  by  a  strong  wind ;  and 
before  him,  blocking  him  in  from  shore  to  shore,  a 
chosen  army  outnumbering  his  own  two  to  one.  The 
white  tents,  that  are  sprinkled  over  this  low  peninsula, 
rock  to  and  fro  in  the  storm  of  sleet  and  hail ;  and  dark- 
ness and  gloom  hang  over  the  Puritan  host.  This  strip 
of  land  is  all  that  he  has  left  in  Scotland,  while  a  power- 
ful army  stands  ready  to  sweep  him  into  the  sea.  But  it 
is  in  circumstances  like  these  that  his  character  shines 
forth  with  greatest  splendor.  Though  his  overthrow 
seems  certain,  he  exhibits  no  discouragement  or  fear, 
for,  ''he  was  a  strong  man  in  the  dark  perils  of  war ;  in 
the  high  places  of  the  field,  hope  shone  in  him  like  a 
pillar  of  fire,  when  it  had  gone  out  in  all  others."  A 
letter  he  writes  to  the  governor  of  Newcastle,  on  the 
eve  of  this  battle,  is  so  characteristic,  and,  withal,  so 
sublime,  that  we  give  it  entire. 

To  Sir  Arthur  Haselrig,  Governor  of  Newcastle  ;  these 

"  Dear  Sir — We  are  upon  an  engagement  very  difficult.  The 
enemy  hath  blocked  up  our  way  at  the  Pass  at  Coppers-path, 
through  which  we  cannot  get  without  a  miracle.  He  lieth  so 
upon  the  hills,  that  we  know  not  how  to  come  that  way,  without 
great  difficulty;  and  our  lying  here  daily,  consumeth  our  men, 
who  fall  sick  beyond  imagination. 

"I perceive  your  forces  are  not  in  a  condition  for  present  relief. 
Wherefore,  whatever  comes  of  us,  it  will  be  well  for  you  to  get  what 
forces  you  can  together ;  and  the  South  to  help  what  they  can. 
The  business  nearly  concerneth  all  good  people.     If  your  forces 


316  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

had  been  in  readiness  to  have  fallen  on  the  back  of  Coppers-path, 
it  might  have  occasioned  supplies  to  have  come  to  us.  But  the 
only  wise  God  knows  what  is  best.  All  shall  work  for  good 
Our  spirits  are  comfortable,  praised  be  the  Lord — though  our 
present  condition  be  as  it  is.  And,  indeed,  we  have  much  hope  in 
the  Lord;  of  whose  mercy  we  have  had  large  experience. 

"  Indeed,  do  you  get  together  what  force  you  can  against  them. 
Send  to  friends  in  the  South  to  help  with  more.  Let  H.  Vane 
know  what  I  write.  I  would  not  make  it  public^  lest  danger  should 
accrue  thereby.  You  know  what  use  to  make  thereof.  Let  me 
hear  from  you. 

"I  rest  your  servant, 

"Oliver  Cromwell." 

Nobly  said.  Indeed,  it  will  be  a  miracle  if  he 
escapes ;  yet,  calm  and  self-sustained,  he  waits  the 
issue.  "  Whatever  becomes  of  him,"  he  is  still  anxious 
for  the  cause  in  which  he  is  struggling.  Forgetting 
himself,  in  the  nobleness  of  his  great  heart,  he  says; 
"  Let  me  fail  in  silence — let  not  the  news  of  my  danger 
Dring  discouragement  on  our  friends — God's  will  be 
done." 

At  four  o'clock  that  evening,  as  he  was  watching 
the  enemy's  movements  through  his  glass,  he  saw 
that  the  Scotch  commander  was  bringing  down  the 
whole  army  from  the  hill  to  the  brook  at  its  base,  to  be 
ready  next  day  to  commence  the  assault.  In  this 
movement  his  quick  eye  detected  an  error,  which,  like 
Bonaparte,  he  determined  to  avail  himself  of 

Lesley,  in  executing  his  manoeuvre,  had  packed  his 
main  body  into  a  narrow  space,  where  it  could  not 
easily  deploy ;  while  the  entire  right  wing  stretched  out 


1650.]  THE     CHARGE.  317 

into  the  plain.  Cromwell  saw,  that  if  he  could  rout 
this  wing,  and  roll  it  back  in  disorder  on  the  unwieldy 
mass,  before  it  could  draw  up  in  order  of  battle  in  the 
open  ground,  victory  would  be  sure.  That  night,  there- 
iore,  his  twelve  thousand  men  were  placed  in  battle  array, 
with  nothing  white  about  them  to  show  conspicuous  in 
the  dusky  twilight,  and  with  orders,  as  soon  as  the  morn- 
ing dawned,  to  fall  on  the  enemy.  All  night  long,  the 
drenched  army  stood,  without  a  tent  to  cover  them,  in 
the  cold  storm ;  while  the  moan  of  the  sea,  as  it  rolled 
heavily  on  the  beach,  seemed  chanting  a  requiem  be- 
forehand, for  the  dead  that  should  cumber  the  field. 
But,  amid  the  shriek  of  the  blast,  and  the  steady  roar 
of  the  waves,  the  voice  of  prayer  was  heard  along  the 
lines ;  and  many  a  brave  heart,  that  before  another 
night  should  beat  no  more,  poured  forth  its  earnest  sup- 
plications to  the  God  of  battle. 

Towards  morning,  the  clouds  broke  away,  and  the 
moon  shone  dimly  dovv'n  on  the  silent  host.  Cromwell, 
who  had  been  intently  watching  the  enemy's  motions, 
now  saw  a  column  moving  down  the  southern  pass  ; 
and  lifting  up  his  arm,  exclaimed,  "  the  Lord  hath 
delivered  them  into  our  hands !"  The  trumpets  then 
sounded  the  charge — the  artillery  opened  their  fire, 
while  louder  than  all  rang  the  shout,  "  The  Lord  of 
Hosts!  the  Lord  of  Hosts T  as  infantry  and  cavalry 
poured  in  one  wild  torrent  together  on  the  enemy. 
The  first  division  of  the  foot  recoiled  ;  when  Cromwell 
ordered  up  his  own  regiment,  which,  with  levelled 
pikes,  pressed  sternly  forward  amid  the  carnage,  bearing 


318  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

down  all  opposition.  At  that  moment,  the  cavaliy 
came  thundering  on :  the  Scotch  paused  in  terror ; 
the  next  moment  the  clattering  tempest  was  upon  them. 
Over  the  brook  and  over  the  hostile  ranks  they  went, 
trampling  down  the  steady  battalions  like  grass  beneath 
their  feet,  and  bearing  three  thousand  souls  to  the  next 
world,  in  their  fierce  passage.  In  the  midst  of  this  ter- 
rible charge,  on  which  Cromwell's  eye  rested  with  the 
deepest  anxiety,  the  sun  rose  over  the  naked  hills,  and, 
struggling  through  the  mist  that  was  gently  moving 
away  from  the  battle-field,  sent  his  level  beams  athwart 
the  commingled  hosts. 

So  did  the  sun  rise  on  Napoleon  at  Borodino,  as  he 
stood  and  surveyed  the  field  on  which  two  hundred  and 
sixty  thousand  men  were  moving  to  battle,  and  the 
sublime  expression  burst  from  his  lips,  "  Behold  the  Sun 
of  Austerlitz  1"  But  Cromwell,  carried  away  by  a  higher 
sentiment  than  glory,  gave  vent  to  his  emotions  in  sub- 
limer  language.  As  the  blazing  fire-ball  rolled  slowly 
into  viev/  and  poured  its  light  over  the  scene,  he  burst 
forth,  "  LET  God  arise,  and  let  his  enemies  be  scattered !" 
Aye,  and  they  were  scattered.  The  right  wing,  broken 
and  disordered,  was  rolled  in  a  confused  mass  upon  the 
main  body  of  the  army  ;  and  the  panic  spreading,  those 
twenty  thousand  men  became  a  cloud  of  fugitives, 
sweeping  hither  and  thither  over  the  field.  At  the  base 
of  Doon  Hill,  on  which  the  enemy  had  been  encamped, 
Cromwell  ordered  a  general  halt :  and  while  the  horse 
could  be  rallied  for  the  chase,  bade  the  army  sing  the 
hundred  and  seventeenth  Psalm.    "  Hundred  and  seven- 


1650.]  THE     VICTORY.  319 

teenth  Psalm,  at  the  foot  of  Doon  Hill;  there  we  uplift  it 
to  the  tune  of  Bangor,  or  some  still  higher  score,  and  roll 
it  strong  ai^l  great  against  the  sky."  As  the  mighty  an- 
them died  away  on  the  field,  the  shout  of  battle  was  again 
heard  ;  and  the  fierce  cavalry  drove  amid  the  broken 
ranks,  riding  down  the  fugitives  and  sabring  them 
without  mercy,  till  the  ground  was  covered  with  the 
dead. 

Three  thousand  were  slain ;  and  ten  thousand  taken 
prisoners  ;  while  fifteen  thousand  stand  of  arms  ;  two 
hundred  stands  of  colors,  and  twenty-seven  cannon ;  re- 
mained as  spoils  to  the  victors.  It  was  an  utter  rout  of 
the  Scotch  :  the  whole  country  around  became  covered 
with  a  disorderly  multitude,  through  which  the  steady 
squadrons  of  the  republicans  galloped  without  resistance. 

Cromwell  never  appeared  to  better  advantage  than 
on  this  occasion.  He  had  been  forced  to  remain  inac- 
tive, while  his  army  dwindled  rapidly  away ;  and  at 
last  made  a  stand  where  the  chances  were  all  against 
him.  But  these  adverse  events  had  only  excited  him 
to  greater  efforts ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the  battle,  those 
who  saw  him  say  he  appeared  like  one  inspired.  He 
was  nov/  fifty-one  years  of  age  ;  but  his  life  of  excite- 
ment, exposure,  and  toil,  had  made  heavy  demands  on 
his  iron  constitution.  The  rich  and  clustering  hair 
of  youth  had  fallen  away,  and  thin  grey  locks  but 
partially  covered  his  wrinkled  temples  and  expansive 
forehead.  What  between  religious  enthusiasm — the 
intense  thought  and  anxiety  to  which  the  perilous  posi- 
*  Vide  Carlyle. 


320  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

tion  of  himself  and  country  made  him  a  constant  prey ; 
and  his  unparalleled  physical  labors ;  reckless  exposures 
to  all  elements  and  seasons  ;  his  hardy  frame  began  to 
yield ;  and  Ave  find  him,  the  next  day  after  the  battle, 
writing  to  his  wife,  saying,  "  I  have  been,  in  my  inward 
man,  marvellously  supported ;  though,  /  assure  thee,  I 
grow  an  old  man,  and  feel  the  infirmities  of  age  stealing 
upon  me.  JVould  my  co7^ruptions  did  as  fast  deci^ease !" 
Now  that  the  strain  of  the  last  six  weeks  is  off,  he  feels 
how  overtasked  he  has  been  :  and  the  reaction  of  mind 
and  body  remind  him  that  the  vigor  and  elasticity  of 
youth  are  departing.  The  stern,  knit  brow  has  relaxed, 
and  the  flashing  eye  lost  its  fire  ;  and  with  a  shade  of 
melancholy  subduing  his  strong  features,  he  looks  over 
the  battle-field,  and  thinks  of  his  own  mortality. 

Immediately  after  the  action,  he  issued  a  proclama- 
tion, by  beat  of  drum,  granting  permission  to  the 
inhabitants  to  come  and  carry  off  the  dead,  and  remove 
and  help  the  wounded.  Five  thousand  persons  were 
turned  loose  on  the  spot,  as  they  encumbered  the  army ; 
while  three  thousand  more  were  marched  southward  ; 
and  at  Morpeth,  Newcastle,  Durham,  and  by  the  way- 
side, died  in  crowds  from  the  cruel  treatment  they 
received. 

At  the  same  time,  he  despatched  Lambert,  with  seven 
regiments,  to  take  Leith  and  Edinburgh,  both  of  which 
opened  their  gates,  though  the  castle  of  the  latter, 
perched  on  its  impregnable  cliff,  refused  to  come  to 
terms.  He,  himself,  soon  followed,  with  his  whole 
armv,  and  invested  the  castle.     In   the  meantime,  he 


1650.]  LECTURES     THE     CLERGY.  321 

sent  word  to  the  governor,  (Dundas,)  that  the  ministers 
should  have  free  permission  to  return  to  the  city,  and 
preach  unmolested.     The  clergy  sent  back  a  sulky  an- 
swer— ^refusing   to  take  advantage  of   the    permission, 
declaring,  that  his  persecutions  towards  the  ministers 
of  Christ  had  been  personal,  since  his  unjust  invasion 
and,  that  they  were  "  resolved  to  reserve  themselves  foi 
better  times ;  and,  to  wait  upon  Him  who  hath  bidder 
his  face  for  awhile,  from  the  sons  of  Jacob."     To  thi; 
Oliver  returned  a  sharp  and  pungent  reply,  telling  them 
that  if  they  had  their  "master's  service  in  their  eye,"  as 
they  pretended,  they  would  not  have  refused  his  offer, 
but  gladly  availed  themselves  of  it,  to  preach  the  Gos- 
pel ;_that  he  had  never  persecuted,  nor  interfered  with 
any  minister,  while   pursuing  his  proper  vocation,  for 
which  he  entertained  the  highest  respect.     But,  "when 
ministers  pretend  to  a  glorious  reformation,  and  lay  the 
foundations  thereof,   in  getting  to  themselves  worldly 
power,   and   can  make  worldly  mixtures,  to  accompUsh 
the  same,  (such  as  their  late  agreement  with  the  king,) 
and  hope  to  carry  on  their  design,  they  may  know  that 
the  Sion  promised,  will  not  be  built  of  such  untempered 
mortar.     As  for  the  unjust  invasion  they  mention,  time 
was  when  an  armij  of  Scotland  came  into  England,  not 
called  by  the  supreme  authority r*     "  And  although," 
he  says,  "  they  comfort  themselves  with  being  sons  of 
Jacob,  from  whom  God  hath  hid  his  face  for  a  time," 
he  tells  them  it  is  no  vronder  they  are  chastened,  w^hen 
they  will  not  recognize  His  hand  in  the  vengeance  so 

*  Vide  Carlyle's  Letters  and  Speeches  of  Cromwell,  p.  460, 


322  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

often  visitsd  on  the  house  of  Stuart.*  "  The  Scotch 
clergy,"  says  Carlyle,  wittily,  ''never  got  such  a  repri- 
mand smce  they  first  took  ordination." 

A  long  correspondence  was  afterwards  carried  on — 
ended  on  the  part  of  Cromwell,  by  proposing  four  tough 
queries,  which  the  Scotch  theologians  found  it  difficult 
to  answer.  They  are  given  at  length  in  Carlyle,  who 
thus  comments  on  them  :  "You  can  consider  that, my 
friends ;  and  think,  on  the  whole,  what  kind  of  course 
you  are  probably  getting  into — steering  towards  a  king- 
dom of  Jesus  Christ,  with  Charles  Stuart,  and  Mrs. 
Barlow\  at  the  helm." 

The  remaining  troops  of  the  enemy — Charles  at 
their  head — rallied  in  Stirling;  and  thither  Cromwell 
marched  on  the  14th,  and  drew  up  before  the  town. 
Finding  the  place,  however,  too  strongly  fortified  to 
hazard  an  attack,  he  marched  back  again,  and  set  down 
in  earnest  before  the  castle  of  Edinburgh.  On  the  29th 
he  began  his  mines,  determined  to  blow  rock  and  all 
into  the  air. 

Notwithstanding  the  victory  of  Dunbar,  and  the 
danger  which  now  threatened  Scotland,  the  most  bit- 
ter factions  divided  the  State.  The  chief  of  these  w^ere 
the  ''king  and  kirk  party"  with  Charles  at  its  head, 
entrenched  at  Stirling ; — the  party  against  the  king, 
called  "  Remonstraioj^s"  commanded  by  Ker  and 
Strahan,  holding    chiefly  the    West;    and  the   purely 

*  Vide  Appendix.     No.  IV. 

t  One  of  the  notorious  women  with  whom  Charles  began  his  dis- 
solute career. 


1650.]  TAxMES     A     DIVINE.  323 

"king  party''  under  Middleton,  who  roamed  the  High- 
lands. 

Hearing,  while  before  Edinburgh  Castle,  that  Ker 
and  Strahan  were  mustering  jn  force,  threatening  to 
march  on  the  town  itself,  Cromwell,  with  nine  regi- 
ments, departed  hastily  for  Glasgow,  which  he  entered 
without  opposition.  A  leg  of  the  unfortunate  Montrose 
hung  blackening  in  the  sun,  over  the  gates,  as  he  passed 
through.  Here  he  remained  two  days.  It  is  said  that 
he  sent  for  Gillespie,  principal  of  the  college,  and  chief 
ecclesiastical  dignitary,  in  those  parts ;  and  after  some 
conversation,  prayed  Vv^ith  him — the  lord-general  tak- 
ing occasion  in  the  course  of  his  prayer  to  give  a 
pretty  full  and  clear  exposition  of  his  theological  views. 
On  Sunday  he  went  to  church,  and  heard  the  clergy- 
man (the  Rev.  Zachary  Boyd,  or  as  others  state,  James 
Durham,  once  in  the  army,)  abuse  him  roundly,  as  an 
enemy  of  God  and  the  true  faith.  Thurloe,  incensed 
at  his  audacity,  wished  to  pull  him  out  of  the  pulpit  by 
the  ears,  but  Cromwell  told  him  to  sit  still — that  he  was 
one  fool,  and  the  minister  another.  After  service,  he 
asked  the  choleric  divine  to  dinner,  and  entertained  him 
generously.  When  dinner  was  over,  he  requested  him 
to  lead  in  prayer,  which  he  did,  followed  by  Cromwell. 
This  season  of  religious  conversation  and  prayer, 
seemed  to  have  wrought  a  wonderful  change  in  the 
Rev.  Zachary  Boyd's  views,  which  was  made  most 
apparent  in  the  prelections  of  the  worthy  man  on  the 
next  Sunday.  It  is  said,  though  we  know  not  with 
how   much   truth,  that  Cromwell  prayed  three  hours. 


324  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

If  SO,  no  wonder  the  minister  w^as  converted ;  for,  such 
astonishing  gifts  and  graces,  but  few  even  of  the  stiff 
Covenanters  possessed. 

Returning  to  Edinburgh,  Oliver  pressed  the  siege  of 
the  castle,  and  soon  succeeded  in  running  his  subter- 
ranean galleries  to  the  rock  on  which  it  stood.  The 
work,  then,  became  slow^  and  tedious. 

In  the  meantime,  Lambert  and  Whalley  had  been 
sent  out  towards  Glasgow^  to  watch  the  movements  of 
Ker  and  Strahan.  The  former  w^as  surprised,  while 
ying  at  Hamilton  Town,  by  the  enemy,  who  broke  in 
upon  him  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  with  fifteen 
hundred  horse.  Lambert,  however,  succeeded  in  rally- 
ing his  men ;  and  routed  the  assailants,  chasing  them  for 
miles  out  of  the  town.  This  w^as  the  end  of  the  party 
of  "  Remonstrators," — Ker  being  dangerously  wounded, 
and  Strahan  after  awhile  joining  the  republicans. 

Cromwell,  in  the  meantime,  finding  how  tedious  and 
slow  the  mining  operations  were  becoming,  raised  a 
mount  near  the  castle,  and  in  spite  of  the  fire  from  the 
latter,  planted  four  mortars,  and  six  heavy  guns  upon  it ; 
and  summoned  Dundas  to  surrender.  The  latter  re- 
plied, that  he  wished  first  to  confer  wdth  "  the  commit- 
tee of  estates."  Oliver,  knowing  well  what  reply  the 
committee  w'ould  give,  refused  permission,  and  opened 
his  fire.  Dundas  then  requested  to  be  allowed  a  con- 
ference with  the  provosts  of  Aberdeen  and  Edinburgh, 
which  w^as  granted.  But  these  functionaries  would 
give  no  advice,  telling  him  he  must  take  the  whole 
responsibility  on  himself.     The  latter  finally  resolved  to 


1650.]  TAKES      EDINBURGH     CASTLE.  325 

hold  out  to  the  last ;  and  having  despatched  this  reso- 
lution to  Cromwell,  flung  out  the  red  flag  of  defiance 
over  the  battlements,  and  opened  his  heavy  guns. 
Oliver  replied  with  a  rapid  and  well-directed  fire. 
The  old  castle  trembled  under  the  heavy  shot  that 
smote  its  walls  ;  but,  still  more,  under  the  explosion  of 
its  own  artillery,  which  made  it  seem  like  a  volcano 
there  on  the  cliff,  spouting  forth  flame  and  smoke.  After 
keeping  up  this  hurly  burly  for  awhile,  Dundas  imagined 
he  had  done  his  whole  duty,  and  beat  a  parley.  Nego- 
tiations were  opened,  and  the  valiant  governor,  obtaining 
honorable  terms,  surrendered  the  castle  to  Cromwell, 
who  immediately  entered  it  in  triumph.* 

The  army  now  went  into  winter-quarters,  and  nothing 
of  note  happened  till  spring : — the  reduction  of  several 
small  garrisons  on  the  shores  of  the  Firth,  being  the  only 
military  expeditions  attempted.  Parliament  sent  an 
artist  to  Edinburgh,  to  take  Oliver's  portrait  for  a 
medal  which  was  to  be  struck  in  commemoration  of 
the  victory  at  Dunbar.  The  latter  thought  this  a  very 
ridiculous  move,  and  proposed  that  the  victory  should 
be  commemorated  by  "  a  gratuity  to  the  army ;"  and 
if  they  would  have  a  medal,  put  parliament  on  one 
side,  "  and  on  the  other  an  army,  with  this  inscription 
over  the  head  of  it — ' The  Lord  of  Hosts'  which  was 
our  w^ord  that  day." 

The  king  was  crowned  in  January,  and  the  forces 
immediately  began  to  muster  from  every  part  of  Scot- 
land.    Cromwell,  who  was,  in  reality,  master  of  the 

*  24th  of  December. 


326  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

whole  country  south  of  the  Forth ;  saw^  all  these  pre- 
parations, and  laid  down  the  plan  of  his  future  cam- 
paign. Fenwick  and  Syles  were  ordered  to  reduce 
Hume  Castle ;  w^hile  he,  with  the  main  army,  on  the  4th 
of  February,  1651,  took  up  the  line  of  march  for  Stir- 
ling, where  the  enemy  still  lay  entrenched.  Fenw^ick 
accomplished  his  mission,  despite  the  conceited  com- 
mander, who,  in  reply  to  his  summons  to  surrender, 
sent  the  following  answ' er : 

"  I,  William  of  the  Wastle, 
Am  now  in  my  castle ', 
A'  awe  the  dogs  in  the  town, 
Shan't  gar  me  gang  down."* 

The  republican  colonel,  as  the  quaint  writer  re- 
ferred to  says,  gave  "heroic  verse  for  his  resolute 
rhymes ;"  and  opening  a  breach  in  his  walls,  made  him 
"gang  down  on  his  own  terms." 

The  march  of  Cromwell  to  Stirling,  v/as  not  so  suc- 
cessful. A  fierce  snow  and  hail  storm  set  in,  which 
impeded  his  march,  and  so  exhausted  the  soldiers,  that 
after  arriving  at  Kilayth,  he  w^as  compelled  to  turn 
back.  He  took  a  severe  cold  in  this  expedition,  which 
ended  in  the  ague,  and,  for  awhile,  seriously  threatened 
his  Hfe.  The  army  was  filled  wdth  consternation,  while 
the  Scotch  gave  w^ay  to  the  most  extravagant  hopes. 
They  verily  believed,  that  God  had  finally  heard  their 
prayers,  and  was  about  to  take  aw^ay  their  chief  enemy. 
He  had  three  relapses,  and  was  not  completely  restored 

*  Vide  Perfect  Politician,  of  16S0. 


1651.]  HIS     SICKNESS.  327 

till  the  first  of  July.  Parliament,  alarmed  at  his  pro- 
tracted illness,  sent  two  eminent  physicians,  Doctors 
Wright  and  Bates,  to  attend  him ;  and  soon  after  passed 
a  vote,  giving  him  permission  to  return  home,  until  his 
health  should  be  re-established.  But  Cromwell's  great 
strength  of  constitution  at  length  prevailed  over  his 
disease. 

Re-inforcements  and  supplies,  in  the  meantime,  had 
arrived,  and  he  took  the  field  with  a  fresh  and  vigorous 
army.  On  the  16th  of  April,  there  was  a  grand  muster 
of  the  troops  at  Musselburgh,  and  the  general  rode  out 
to  review  them.  No  sooner  was  that  well-known  form 
seen  advancing  along  the  lines,  than  they  rent  the 
heavens  with  shouts  :  and  as  they  looked  on  his  pale 
face,  so  changed  since  they  last  saw  it,  "  God  save  the 
lord-general !"  shook  the  field. 

That  afternoon,  the  army  was  put  in  motion  for  Glas- 
gow, where  it  arrived  on  Saturday.  Cromwell  remained 
here  two  days  ;  when  hearing  that  the  king  was  bestir- 
ring himself,  he  returned  to  Edinburgh.  This  effort 
caused  a  relapse;  and  was  the  occasion  of  the  phy- 
sicians being  sent  by  parliament. 

On  the  25th  of  June,  however,  he  was  again  in  the 
saddle,  and  his  army  pitched  their  tents  on  the  Pentland 
Hills.  They  presented  a  splendid  spectacle  there  in  the 
spring  sunlight — "  the  towering  tents  of  the  superior 
officers,"  with  banners  floating  above  them,  standing 
amid  the  countless  huts  of  the  inferior  soldiers,  like 
the  "pinnacles  in  a  w^ell-built  c^'ty,  over  the  humble 
cottages." 


328  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

While  they  lay  thus  encamped  on  the  heights,  their 
general  gave  a  splendid  dinner  to  the  officers,  many  of 
whose  wives — and  among  them  Lady  Lambert,  graced 
the  festival. 

On  the  2d  of  July,  the  army  was  again  put  in  motion 
towards  Stirling,  hoping  the  enemy  would  give  battle. 
But  the  Scotch  were  in  no  hurry  to  measure  their 
strength  a  second  time  with  the  victors  of  Dunbar,  and 
remained  behind  their  impregnable  works.  Thus  march- 
ing and  counter-marching,  without  accomphshing  any- 
thing, Cromwell  became  impatient,  and,  at  length,  resolv- 
ed to  take  Calendar  House — a  garrison  in  full  view  of  the 
enemy — and,  if  possible,  provoke  them  to  defend  it.  On 
the  15th  of  July,  he  opened  his  batteries,  and  having 
made  a  breach,  stormed,  and  took  it.  Finding  this  had 
no  effect,  he  planned  a  bolder  movement — to  cross  over 
and  seize  Fife,  and  thus  out-flanking  the  Scotch,  cut  off 
their  supplies.  This  brought  on  a  fierce  battle  between 
Overton  and  the  garrison  of  Fife.  Re-inforcements 
were  sent  in  all  haste  to  the  latter  ;  but  Lambert  com- 
ing up  at  the  same  time,  to  the  help  of  Overton,  the 
enemy  were  completely  routed,  with  the  loss  of  nearly 
two  thousand  slain,  and  a  large  number  of  prisoners. 
The  fort  of  Inchgarvie,  hitherto  deemed  impregnable, 
next  fell.  Burntisland  followed — of  still  greater  account, 
from  its  having  a  fine  harbor,  in  which  the  ships 
with  supplies,  could  ride.  Cromwell  then  marched  on 
Johnston — a  place  commanding  the  pass  of  Stirling, 
through  which  all  the  supplies  from  the  Highlands 
came — and  took  it. 


1651.]         BOLD     MARCH     OF     THE     ENEMY.  329 

The  strong  defences  of  Stirling,  by  this  flank  move- 
ment, were  uncovered ;  and  the  Scotch  leaders  saw  that 
they  must  risk  a  battle  on  somewhat  equal  terms,  or 
evacuate  the  place.  In  these  desperate  circumstances, 
it  was  boldly  resolved  "  to  carry  the  war  into  Africa  f 
and  marching  straight  for  England,  endeavor  to  rouse 
the  loyalty  of  the  country.  Full  sixteen  thousand 
strong,  the  army  crossed  the  borders,  near  Carlisle,  on 
the  6th  of  August,  and  pressed  rapidly  southward.  So 
sudden  and  unexpected  was  this  movement,  that  it 
filled  England  with  consternation,  and  parhament  itself 
with  alarm.  Cromwell,  too,  was  taken  by  surprise  at 
this  exhibition  of  energy  and  daring  in  an  army  that 
had  hitherto  evinced  so  much  hesitation  and  want  of 
confidence.  Comprehending,  however,  at  once,  the 
full  extent  of  the  danger,  he  immediately  wrote  to  par- 
liament not  to  be  alarmed,  as  he  would  soon  overtake, 
and  vanquish  the  enemy ;  and,  in  the  meantime,  hurried 
off  an  express  to  Harrison,  already  on  the  borders,  to 
impede  the  king's  march  as  much  as  possible.  Lambert 
was  also  despatched  in  hot  haste,  with  five  regiments 
of  horse  and  dragoons,  to  fall  on  the  enemj^'s  rear,  and 
harass  him  into  delays. 

Scotland  was  still  unsettled,  and  demanded  the 
presence  and  management  of  Cromwell ;  but  hastily 
adopting  such  measures  as  would  secure  what  was 
already  won,  he  left  six  thousand  men  under  Lieuten- 
ant-General  Monk ;  and  taking  only  ten  regiments 
and  eight  cannon  with  him,  set  off  in  full  pursuit. 
Pressing  his   enthusiastic   troops   to   the  top   of  their 


330  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

speed,  he  crossed  the  Tyne,  only  six  days  after  Charles. 
The  Scotch  army,  steering  southward  through  Lan- 
cashire, was  bravely  met  at  Warrington  Bridge  by 
Harrison  ;  but  bearing  down  all  resistance  by  its  over- 
whelming numbers,  it  swept  steadily  on.  At  length, 
however,  the  leaders  growing  disheartened  at  the 
coldness  of  the  tow^ns  through  w^hich  they  passed,  and 
the  steady  refusal  of  every  garrison  to  surrender ; 
resolved  to  leave  the  London  road,  and  turn  aside  to 
Worcester. 

All  this  time,  like  a  dark  resistless  storm,  Cromwell 
came  thundering  on  their  rear ;  while  the  sound  of 
rising  arms  was  heard  on  every  side.  In  a  short  time, 
40,000  mihtia  were  raised  for  the  defence  of  the  nation. 
He,  however,  did  not  wait  for  these  new  levies  to  arrive, 
but  re-inforcing  himself  as  he  best  could,  collected,  by 
extraordinary  efforts,  30,000  men,  and  swept  swiftly 
down  on  Worcester. 

BATTLE  OF  WORCESTER. 

The  town  of  Worcester,  well  fortified,  lay  upon  the 
eastern  side  of  the  Severn  ;  while  opposite  to  it,  and 
connected  with  it  by  a  bridge,  w^ere  strong  works, 
heavily  garrisoned ;  so  that  the  place  could  not  easily 
be  approached  from  either  bank.  These  outposts  were 
on  a  tongue  of  land  made  by  the  river  Team,  which 
empties  into  the  Severn  just  below  them ;  so  that  in 
advancing  upon  Worcester  from  that  side,  one  must 
first   cross  the  Team,  then  carrv  the  works  before  he 


1651.]  ADVANCES     ON     WORCESTER.  331 

could  pass  the  Severn  by  the  bridge  which  connected 
the  two  banks. 

Cromwell  came  down  along  the  bank  on  which  the 
town  stood,  where  the  defences,  strong  by  nature,  had 
been  by  art  rendered  almost  impregnable.  Hurrying 
on  with  his  advanced  guard,  he  arrived  at  night  before 
the  place,. five  days  in  advance  of  the  main  army.  He 
found  all  the  bridges  broken  down — every  boat  removed 
— new  defences  thrown  up,  and  preparations  made 
for  a  stern  resistance  ;  while  in  the  long  lines  of  fires, 
that  streaked  the  heights,  and  threw  a  ruddy  glare  on 
the  heavens,  he  saw  what  a  formidable  force  was  there, 
ready  to  repel  his  assaults. 

But  on  the  very  night  of  his  arrival,  Lambert  crossed 
over  the  Severn  at  Upton,  a  few  miles  below  Worces- 
ter ;  and  assailing  Massey  drove  him  from  his  post, 
and  occupied  it  himself.  The  bridge  had  been  destroy- 
ed ;  but  Lambert's  men,  dismounting  from  their  horses, 
crawled  silently  across  on  a  single  piece  of  timber,  which 
stretched  from  arch  to  arch;  and  forming  on  the 
opposite  shore,  took  the  enemy  by  surprise,  and  repaired 
the  bridge. 

Cromwell,  in  the  meantime,  pushed  his  reconnoi- 
sances  on  every  side ;  and  by  Tuesday  night,  September 
2d,  when  Fleetwood,  with  the  main  army,  arrived,  had 
his  plans  all  matured.  He  would  not  wait  for  re-in- 
forcements,  nor  till  the  troops  could  rest  from  their  long 
and  wearisome  marches:  for  the  next  day  was  the 
Sd  of  September— the  anniversary  of  the  glorious  battle 
of  Dunbar,  and   his   fortunate  day; — and  so  he  pushed 


332  OLIVERCROMVVELL. 

Fleetwood,  that  night,  over  the  bridge  which  Lambert 
had  repaired.  At  day-hght,  this  gallant  officer  began 
to  advance ;  and  marching  up  opposite  Worcester, 
prepared  to  attack  the  works  connected  with  it  by  the 
Severn  bridge.  But  the  river  Team  arrested  his 
progress,  and  he  w^as  compelled  to  halt  and  build  a 
bridge  of  boats  across  it.  Between  iiim  and  Cromwell 
in  full  view  on  the  opposite  bank,  lay  this  small  stream, 
together  with  the  narrow  tongue  of  land  formed  by  its 
junction  with  the  Severn,  and  the  Severn  itself  The 
arrangement  was,  to  have  Fleetwood  attack  these  out- 
posts, and  endeavor  to  force  his  way  across  the  Severn 
bridge  into  Worcester ;  while  Cromwell,  on  his  side  of 
the  river,  should  fall  on  Fort  Jloyal,  and  storm  the  town. 
It  was,  however,  of  the  utmost  importance  to  restore  the 
communication  between  the  portions  of  his  army  now 
broken  by  the  Severn  ;  so  that  each  could  help  the 
other,  in  case  of  need.  So  while  Fleetwood  was  throw- 
ing a  bridge  of  boats  across  the  Team,  Cromwell  threw 
another — the  extremities  of  the  two  separated  only  by 
the  tongue  of  land  formed  by  the  junction  of  the  rivers 
— over  the  Severn,  to  the  same  point.  All  day  long,  the 
sound  of  the  hammer  and  the  heavy  fall  of  timber,  were 
heard  on  the  banks ;  while  the  towers  and  cathedrals  of 
Worcester  were  crowded  with  spectators,  watching  the 
terrific  preparations.  There,  too,  stood  the  youthful 
king,  surrounded  by  his  officers,  and  speaking  in  anxious 
tones  of  the  coming  struggle. 

At  length,  late  in  the  afternoon,  the   bridges   were 
completed,  and  Fleetwood,  from  his  side,  marched   over 


1651.]  BATTLE     OF     WORCESTER.  333 

the  Team,  to  attack  the  works  of  St.  John.  Cromwell, 
hurrying  everything  on  with  the  utmost  despatch,  had 
chafed  like  a  lion  in  the  toils,  as  the  sun  of  his  fortunate 
day  declined ;  and  hence,  no  sooner  saw  his  bridge  com- 
plete, than  he  spurred  upon  it  at  the  head  of  his  column, 
and  was  the  first  man  across.  The  Scotch  officers,  from 
the  top  of  the  cathedral,  saw  the  dark  masses  upon  the 
opposite  side  of  the  town  move  upon  their  works,  and 
immediately  despatched  a  strong  re-inforcement  across 
to  their  support. 

In  the  meantime,  the  scene  of  carnage  had  commenc- 
ed. Amid  the  roar  of  cannon  and  shouts  of  defiance, 
Fleetwood  had  charged,  like  fire,  on  the  strong  de- 
fences of  the  Scotch  and,  driving  them  from  hedge  to 
hedge,  threatened  to  carry  everything  before  him.  In 
the  tumult  of  the  fight,  he  did  not  hear  the  clattering 
squadrons  that  were  hurrying  over  the  bridge  to  the 
relief  of  the  enemy,  and  was  pushing  his  slight  advan- 
tage gallantly  when  these  fresh  troops  burst  upon  him. 
He  bore  up  nobly  against  the  overwhelming  numbers, 
and  for  awhile  successfully  breasted  the  torrent ;  but, 
gradually  overpowered,  he  gave  ground,  and  was  rolling 
heavily  back  towards  the  Team,  when  Cromwell,  who 
saw  his  danger,  hurried  battalion  after  battalion,  with  as- 
tonishing rapidity,  over  his  bridge  of  boats,  which  rush- 
ing with  shouts  to  the  attack  restored  the  tide  of  battle. 
The  king  and  his  officers,  from  their  elevated  position, 
had  a  bird's  eye  view  of  the  whole  scene,  and  hence 
could  take  advantage  of  every  change.  No  sooner, 
therefore,  did  they  see  what  heavy  forces  Cromwell  was 


334  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

taking  over  to  the  assistance  of  Fleetwood,  than  they 
resolved  to  sally  out,  and  fall  on  those  left  behind  before 
help  could  be  rendered.  In  a  moment,  the  trumpets 
sounded,  and  the  excited  columns  began  to  pour  forth. 
But  Oliver,  whom  no  surprise  could  find  unprepared, 
was  already  back  amid  his  men,  and,  cheering  them  by 
his  presence  and  his  voice,  waited  the  attack.  The 
onset  of  the  Scotch  was  tremendous — despair  lent  them 
energy,  and  discharging  their  pieces  in  the  very  faces 
of  the  republicans,  they  rushed  on  them  w^ith  levelled 
pikes,  and  the  conflict  became  close  and  bloody.  Crom- 
v^^ell,  finding  his  troops  beginning  to  shake,  forgot  he 
was  lord-general,  and  with  his  sword  flashing  over  his 
head,  and  his  eye  glancing  fire,  galloped  where  the  shot 
fell  thickest.  His  rough  voice  was  heard  above  the 
tumult,  as,  carried  away  by  that  strange  excitement 
which  mastered  him  at  Dunbar,  he  cheered  on  his  men. 
Hour  after  hour,  they  stood  under  the  murderous  fire, 
and  charged  desperately  on  the  stands  of  pikes,  but  not 
an  inch  did  the  resolute  Scotch  yield.  At  length  the 
republicans  gave  way — many  of  them  being  raw^ 
recruits — and  the  bleeding  line  swamg  disorderly 
back.  In  this  dreadful  crisis,  Cromwell  dashed  up  to 
his  own  favorite  regiment,  which  he  had  held  in 
reserve,  and  led  them  on  in  person.  With  the  terrible 
shout,  that  rolled  so  ominously  over  the  fields  of  Dun- 
bar, "  The  Lord  of  Hosts  !  the  Lord  of  Hosts  !'* 
this  veteran  regiment  closed  sternly  around  their  be- 
loved chieftain,  and  in  one,  dark,  resistless  wave,  sw^ept 
full   on   the    victorious    enemy.      The    panic-stricken 


1651.]  THE    BATTLE-FIELD.  335 

Scotch,  arrested  in  their  onward  course,  borne  back, 
trampled  under  foot,  and  broken  into  fragments,  before 
that  astonishing  charge,  turned  and  fled  into  the  town 
The  excited  republicans  followed  after,  and  swarming 
around  Fort  Royal,  summoned  it  to  surrender.  The 
commander  refusing,  •'  it  was  carried,  in  all  the  wild 
triumph  of  victory,  by  a  furious  storm."  And  fifteen 
hundred  men  swept,  as  by  a  sudden  tempest,  into  the 
world  of  spirits.  The  guns  were  then  turned  upon  the 
enemy,  and  the  cannon-balls  went  ploughing  through  the 
shattered  and  flying  ranks  with  frightful  effect. 

Fleetwood,  too,  victorious  on  his  side,  had  driven  the 
enemy  from  their  position,  and  pursuing  them  over  the 
bridge,  entered  the  town : — then  the  sacking  and  slaugh- 
ter commenced.  The  clatter  of  flying  cavalry — inces- 
sant volleys  of  musketry — the  close  struggle  between  vic- 
torious and  despairing  men — the  shouts  and  shrieks, 
the  groans  of  w^omen,  children,  and  combatants,  com- 
bined to  make  the  night  hideous,  and  the  last  battle  of 
Cromwell  one  of  the  most  fearful  of  his  life. 

At  length,  the  strife  ceased ;  and  streets  strewed  with 
wrecks  of  the  fight,  rivulets  of  blood  welling  from  un- 
derneath heaps  of  corpses ;  and  pale  and  mangled  men, 
scattered  on  every  side,  crying  piteously  for  water,  at- 
tested how  fierce  and  sanguinary  the  struggle  had  been. 
It  is  said,  that  after  all  was  over,  as  Cromwell  stood  and 
gazed  on  the  scene  in  the  starlight,  he  burst  into  a 
boisterous  laugh.  The  excitement  had  been  too  great 
for  his  weak  and  over- wrought  system ;  and  he  was 
almost  wild  with  excitement.    No  wonder — arising  from 


336  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

a  sick  bed,  he  had  been  strung  to  the  greatest  efforts, 
and  \7rought  to  the  highest  pitch  of  feehng ;  and  then, 
without  the  least  repose,  fought  one  of  the  most  des- 
perate battles  of  his  life,  in  which  victory,  for  a  long 
time,  wavered  to  and  fro. 

But  this  burst  of  passion  soon  subsided ;  and  return- 
ing to  his  tent  at  ten  o'clock,  he  sat  down,  as  he  him- 
self says,  "weary,  and  scarce  able  to  write,"  and  sent 
his  despatch  to  parliament.  He  declared  that  "  the  di- 
mensions of  this  mercy  were  above  his  thoughts."  In- 
deed," said  he,  "it  is,  for  aught  /  know,  a  crowning 
mercy''  It  proved  such  to  him ;  for  it  put  the  three 
kingdoms  under  his  control.  The  Scotch  army  was 
utterly  shivered — scarce  three  thousand  of  it  eve. 
being  heard  of  again.  To  swell,  if  possible,  this  tri- 
umph ;  two  days  before,  Monk  had  stormed  Dundee,  and 
carried  it  with  great  slaughter. 

When  the  news  reached  London,  the  population  was 
thrown  into  paroxysms  of  joy.  On  the  Sabbath,  Crom- 
well's despatches  were  read  in  all  the  pulpits  ;  and  the 
low  "hallelujahs,"  and  deep  "amens,"  that  rolled  from 
Puritan  breasts,  evinced  the  uncontrollable  emotions 
that  mastered  them. 

Oliver  remained  a  few  days  after  the  battle,  to  give 
orders  respecting  the  prisoners,  among  whom  were 
many  nobles* — some  of  w^hose  heads  were  destined  to 

*  Seven  earls,  and  others  of  inferior  rank;  two  major-generals; 
nineteen  colonels ;  seventeen  lieutenant-generals,  and  other  officers 
in  proportion.  The  Duke  of  Hamilton  had  his  leg  broken,  and  died 
on  the  fourth  day. 


1651.]  REVIEW     OF     HIS     CAREER.  337 

the  block — and  level  the  walls  of  the  town  to  the 
ground,  and  fill  up  the  ditches ;  then  started  for  London, 
where  he  arrived  on  the  12th,  amid  discharges  of  can- 
non and  acclamations  that  shook  the  city  to  its  foun- 
dations. The  lord-mayor  feasted  him ;  and  parliament 
voted  him  thanks,  and  emoluments  to  the  amount  of 
£4000  per  annum.  The  transition  from  such  sudden 
danger  into  complete  security,  intoxicated  the  people; 
and  Cromw^ell  stood  on  the  pinnacle  of  power. 

In  Scotland,  the  work  of  entire  subjugation  was 
completed  by  Monk,  who,  by  his  energy  and  discipline, 
succeeded  in  securing  order  and  peace,  such  as  the 
government  had  sought  in  vain  to  attain. 

The  battle  of  Worcester  finished  Cromwell's  mili- 
tary career.  From  that  time  forward  he  was  to  be 
supreme  ruler  in  England.  His  last  battle  had  been 
fought — his  last  victory  won ;  and  it  only  remained  to 
gather  up  the  fruits  of  his  toil. 

At  this  point,  it  is  natural  to  pause,  and  look  back  on 
his  career. 

From  1642,  when  the  first  battle  of  Edgehill  was 
fought,  to  the  battle  of  Worcester,  1651,  were  years  of 
trouble  and  uncertainty.  During  this  period  of  toil  and 
of  victory,  Cromwell  moves  before  us  like  some  resistless 
power,  crushing  everything  that  would  stay  its  progress. 
Simple,  austere,  and  decided,  he  maintains  his  ascen- 
dancy over  the  army ;  and,  with  the  Psalms  of  David 
on  his  lips,  and  the  sword  of  war  in  his  hand,  sweeps 
over  his  victorious  battle-fields,  like  a  leader  of  the  host 
of  Israel.  Never  cast  down  by  reverses,  or  dismayed 
15 


338  OLIVEK     CROMWELL. 

by  danger,  he  meets  every  crisis  with  the  coohiess  and 
self-possession  of  a  great  nnind. 

Whether  fighting  with  the  Scots  against  the  king,  or 
beleaguering  Edinburgh  with  his  little  army — whether 
quelling  rebellion  in  different  parts  of  the  realm,  or 
bending  his  vast  energies  against  his  monarch  in  a 
pitched  battle,  he  rises  before  us  the  same  determined, 
self-collected,  and  resolute  man.  Whether  bowed  in 
fasting  and  prayer  before  God,  or  trampling  down  the 
ranks  of  the  enemy,  under  the  hoofs  of  his  cavalry — 
whether  lost  in  a  strange  enthusiasm  over  a  Psalm  of 
David,  or  standing  alone — the  rock  around  which  the 
waves  of  the  revolution  finally  calmed  themselves  to 
rest,  or  sank  in  fruitless  rage — he  exhibits  the  same  lofty 
purpose  and  upright  heart  Dismayed  by  no  obstacle, 
disheartened  by  no  reverses,  he  leans  in  solemn  faith  on 
the  arm  of  the  God  of  battles  and  of  truth.  Without 
the  feverish  anxiety  which  belongs  to  ambition,  or  the 
dread  of  defeat  that  accompanies  love  of  glory,  he  is 
impelled  onward  by  a  feeling  of  duty,  and  loses  himself 
in  the  noble  cause  for  which  he  is  struggling.  Acting 
under  the  eye  of  heaven,  with  his  thoughts  fixed  on 
that  dread  judgment  where  he  must  render  up  a  faith- 
ful record  of  his  deeds,  he  vacillates  only  when  he 
doubts  w^hat  is  right,  and  fears  only  when  a  pure  God 
rises  before  him. 

Nothing  but  noble  m.otives  could  have  drawn  him, 
at  his  age,  into  the  career  he  followed.  The  fervor 
and  enthusiasm  of  youth  had  fled,  and  he  had  reached 
an  age  when  the  call  of  ambition  begins  to  sound  faint 


1651.]  HIS     CAREER.  339 

and  doubtful.  A  sober,  religious  farmer,  he  girded  on 
the  sword  when  forty-three  years  of  age :  and  taking 
his  oldest  son,  who  bore  his  name,  entered  the  field, 
where  anything  but  glory  seemed  to  be  the  promised 
reward.  That  beloved  son  he  saw  fall  before  the  blow 
of  the  foeman ;  and  though  he  had  a  wife  and  family 
to  bind  him  to  Hfe,  he  seemed  to  be  unconscious  he  had 
a  life  to  lose.  By  his  bold  and  decided  action,  his  rapid 
movement,  his  rigid  discipline,  and  boiling  courage,  he 
triumphed  over  the  most  overwhelming  obstacles,  per- 
formed prodigies  of  valor,  and  filled  the  world  with  the 
renown  of  his  deeds ;  and  yet,  he  refused  all  praise  to 
himself,  referring  everything  to  the  goodness  of  God. 
Yet,  there  was  no  blind  credulity  in  this  rehance  on 
heaven — no  sluggish  dependence  ;  for  he  strained  every 
nerve,  and  employed  every  means,  as  if  all  rested  on 
himself.  He  trusted  both  in  God  and  his  own  great  soul. 
That  he  carried  his  ideas  of  special  Providence  too  far, 
few  of  the  present  day  will  doubt.  He  thought  the 
glorious  era,  when  the  Israelites  marched  behind  the 
pillar  of  fire  and  of  cloud,  and  were  guided  in  every 
step  by  the  direct  interposition  of  heaven,  might  be 
restored. 

No  one  who  has  studied  his  character  deeply,  can 
doubt  that  he  contemplated  establishing  a  kind  of  the- 
ocracy, in  which  the  nation  should  be  a  pure  church, 
and  God  its  Head.  That  so  thorough  a  practical  man 
should  have  nourished  so  visionary  a  theory,  seems 
strange  enough  ;  but  the  truth  is,  notwithstanding  his 
stern,  rugged,   and   unpoetic   nature,  Cromwell   had  a 


340  OLIVER     CROiMWELL. 

touch  of  superstition  about  him,  which  his  matter 
of  fact  character  and  practical  life  could  not  remove. 
This  did  not  turn  him  into  a  wild  fanatic,  or  drive 
him  into  monkish  habits  or  gloom;  nor  even  fetter 
the  free  action  of  his  mental  powders;  it  only  gave 
them  a  religious  direction.  He  thus  became  an 
enthusiast,  and  startled  men  with  those  sudden  in- 
spirations that  sometimes  flash  forth  from  the  soul 
^of  genius,  like  foreshadowdngs  of  future  events.  He 
saw  farther  than  the  other  great  men  of  his  time, 
and  alone  was  capable  of  conducting  the  revolu- 
tion to  the  goal  it  reached.  As  a  military  man,  he 
showed  no  extraordinary  depth  of  combination,  and  in- 
troduced no  improvements  in  military  science:  yet 
he  beat  the  best  generals  of  the  kingdom,  fought  suc- 
cessfully against  the  most  overv/helming  numbers,  and 
gained  every  battle  he  fought. 

It  is  idle  to  speak  of  such  a  man  as  a  mere  creature 
of  circumstances.  Facts  are  better  than  theories — and 
the  power  of  Cromwell  obtained ;  the  success  that  attend- 
ed every  effort,  and  the  steady  hand  with  which  he  held 
all  the  raging  elements  of  the  revolution  in  check,  prove 
him  to  have  possessed  a  character  of  amazing  strength, 
even  though  it  exhibited  no  single  extraordinary  quality. 
Sudden  and  great  success  may  attend  a  weak  mind  in 
certain  favorable  circumstances,  but  in  a  long  protract- 
ed and  compUcated  struggle,  the  strong  man  alone 
wins.  The  plebeian,  who  in  England  under  any  circum- 
stances, can  bring  successfully  to  his  feet,  king,  parlia- 
ment, and  people — quietly  and  firmly  seat  himself  down 


1651.]  REVIEWING     HIS     CAREER-  341 

on  the  throne  of  the  British  empire — wield  its  vast  des- 
tinies, control  its  amazing  energies,  and  after  years  of 
experience  die  in  peace  and  power,  leaving  a  flourishing 
commonwealth  to  his  successor — must  possess  a  grasp 
of  thought  and  power  seldom  found  in  a  single  soul. 

There  is  no  difficulty  in  analyzing  the  career  of  Crom- 
well. Divided  into  two  parts,  military  and  civil,  it 
exhibits  his  character  and  motives  clear  as  noonday. 
He  commenced  as  captain  of  a  troop,  and  gradually 
fought  his  way  up  to  commmander-in-chief  of  the  army. 
»Vith  a  tenacity  of  will  that  nothing  could  shake, 
and  courage  that  nothing  could  resist ;  simple  and  frank 
in  his  manners,  given  to  no  excesses,  and  claiming 
no  share  of  the  plunder,  he  soon  gained  such  influence 
over  the  soldiers,  that  they  would  follow  him  into  any 
danger.  In  short,  the  success  which  attended  all  his 
effort?  made  him  necessary  to  the  army ;  so  that  after 
the  self-denying  ordinance  was  passed,  he  was  retained 
by  special' command,  month  after  month,  until  finally  no 
one  thought  of  removing  him. 

With  perfect  command  over  himself  and  his  followers 
in  the  heat  of  battle — carried  away  by  no  victory — be- 
guiled into  no  pursuit ;  he  always  stopped  at  the  right 
place,  and  with  wonderful  self-possession  and  skill,  rallied 
his  men  and  poured  them  afresh  on  the  enemy.  The 
severe  discipline,  to  which  he  subjected  his  soldiers, 
placed  them  at  his  control  in  the  midst  of  the  wildest 
confusion.  This,  doubtless,  was  one  great  cause  of  his 
success. 

His  civil  and  political  life,  up  to  the  battle  of  Wor- 


842  OI,  IVER      CROMWELL. 

cester,  was  more  or  less  merged  into  that  of  others,  and 
was  also  simply  a  struggle  against  the  oppression  and 
injustice  of  those  in  power.  Almost  constantly  in  the 
field,  all  his  attention  and  thought  were  given  to  the 
army. 

But  his  battles  are  now  over,  and  he  turns  and  con- 
centrates all  his  power  on  civil  matters,  and  hereafter 
we  are  to  contemplate  him  solely  as  a  statesman. 


CHAPTER  XL 

FROM  THE   BATTLE   OF   WORCESTER  TO   THE   PROTEC- 
TORATE  1651  TO  1653. 

Cromwell  Moves  that  Parliament  Fix  a  Day  for  Its  Dissolution — The 
Rump  Parliament — Cromwell's  Course  Defended — Death  of  Ireton 
— Malice  of  Cromwell's  Biographers — Navigation  Act — War  v;ith 
the  Dutch — Victories  of  Blake — Attempt  of  Parliament  to  Crush  the 
Army  and  Cromwell — Treachery  of  Members — Dispersion  of  Par- 
liament by  Cromwell  and  His  Musketeers — Defence  of  the  Measure 
— Barebones'  Parliament — Its  Extraordinary  Character — Dissolves 
Itself — The  Dutch  Sue  for  Peace — Cromwell  Proclaimed  Lord 
Protector. 

From  the  battle  of  Worcester,  to  the  dissolution  of 
the  rump  parUanient,  April,  1653,  Cromweirs  part  in 
the  history  of  the  commonwealth,  lies  obscure.  One 
of  Iiis  first  steps,  on  taking  his  seat  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  was  to  move  that  the  act  of  oblivion  to  po- 
litical offenders,  long  since  proposed,  should  become  a 
law;  and  accordingly,  an  amnesty  was  granted  to 
all  previous  to  1648.  But  many  of  those  taken  in 
the  last  victory,  and  among  them  Count  Derby,  were 
executed.*  He  next  moved,  that  parliament  should  fix 
a  day  for  its  own  dissolution ;  which,  after  much  severe 
debate,  it  was  decided  should  be  the  13th  of  Novem- 
ber, 1654,  or  three  years  fromthat  time. 

*  Vide  Carlyle. 


?44 


OLIVER     CROMWELL. 


This  parliament,  which  had  received  the  nick-names 
of  "fag-end,"  and  "rump  parUament,"  from  its  being 
composed  of  the  remnants  of  the  long  parliament,  was 
looked  upon  with  general  dissatisfaction.  Reduced  to 
a  hundred,  or  a  hundred  and  twenty-one  members,  not 
even  half  of  whom  took  any  part  in  its  business,  it 
constituted  a  government  wholly  unequal  to  the  exi- 
gencies of  the  times,  though  it  numbered  among  its 
members  some  extraordinary  men — such  as  the  younger 
Vane  and  Henry  Marten.  Yet,  they  were  not  strictly 
the  representatives  of  the  people — they  were  a  sort  of 
provisional  government,  whose  existence  and  power 
were  needed  only  while  immediate  danger  threatened 
the  Commonw^ealth.  But,  as  that  danger  was  now  over, 
the  first  thought  of  every  man  was — and  prudence  dic- 
tated that  it  should  be — a  new  and  fair  representation 
of  the  kingdom,  to  decide  in  general  congress,  on  what 
principles  the  government  and  nation  should  be  settled. 
Cromwell,  with  his  usual  sagacity,  saw  that  nothing  else 
would  do ;  and  hence,  he  moved  that  immediate  action 
be  taken  on  the  subject — hoping  that  a  parliament  which 
had  made  itself  so  renowned  abroad,  and  so  terrible  at 
home,  w^ould  name  an  early  day  for  its  dissolution.  In 
this  he  was  disappointed,  as  he  was  doomed  to  be  in 
every  measure  he  brought  forward  to  prevent  evil, 
which  none  but  himself  seemed  able  to  foresee.  He 
would  have  saved  the  former  parliament,  by  inducing 
it  to  be  just  to  the  army ;  and  the  kingdom  from  anar- 
chy, by  prevailing  on  the  king  to  be  reasonable ;  and 
had  failed  in  both :  and  now,  the  first  use  he   made  of 


1651.]  RUMP     PARLIAMENT.  34.5 

his  great  influence  was,  to  urge  a  measure  which,  if  it 
had  been  properly  carried  out,  would  have  erected  an 
effectual  barrier  against  his  ascent  to  supreme  pow- 
er : — yet,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  this  has  been  ad- 
duced as  another  proof  of  his  insincerity.  Nothing 
w^as  plainer  to  him  than  that  this  parliament  would 
never  do  for  England;  and  he  w^shed  to  supply  a  sub- 
stitute, before  the  wants  of  the  kingdom,  and  the  whole 
people,  should  call  on  him  to  be  that  substitute.  If, 
therefore,  he  had  opposed,  instead  of  introduced,  this 
motion,  there  would  have  been  good  ground  for  suspi- 
cion of  secret  ambition. 

But  the  rump  parliament  had  become  intoxicated 
with  the  love  of  power,  and  resolved  to  exercise  it  at 
least  three  years  longer ;  and  Oliver  looked  sadly  on,  to 
see  what  would  come  of  it  glad — his  enemies,  destitute 
alike  of  honor  and  truth,  say — because  it  would  more 
efiectually  disgrace  itself  in  the  eyes  of  the  nation.  Like 
the  wolf  in  the  fable,  they  will  have  him  in  the  wrong 
at  any  rate.  If  he  had  proposed  that  the  parliament 
should  sit  indefinitely,  they  would  have  declared  it  re- 
vealed the  ambitious  hypocrite,  who  wished  its  rottenness 
and  inefficiency  to  become  so  apparent,  that  the  people 
would  gladly  have  it  broken  up,  even  at  the  pike's  point. 
But  he  was  the  first  to  propose  a  dissolution  ;  and  they 
now  assert,  that  he  neither  hoped  nor  expected  it  to 
take  place.  Do  what  he  will,  there  is  some  selfish  de- 
sign lurking  at  the  bottom,  which  it  is  the  duty  of  the 
historian  to  guess  at,  and  then  declare  his  guess  to  be  a 

fact.     If  he  does  nothing,  or  is  away,  the  same  sinister 
15* 


346  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

design  is  the  cause  of  his  silence  or  absence.  There  is 
one  consolation,  however — his  most  venomous  foes  have 
not  dared  to  assail  his  private  character,  if  w^e  except 
Voltaire,  whose  effort  has  only  brought  contempt  on 
himself 

The  next  month  (the  8th  of  December)  the  noble 
Ireton  died  in  Ireland.  Carrying  out  the  plan  of  his 
father-in-law%  he  rapidly  subjugated  the  whole  island ;  but, 
on  the  reduction  of  Limerick,  he  was  seized  with  inflam- 
matory fever,  and  after  an  illness  of  ten  days,  rested 
from  his  severe  labors.  This  blow  fell  heavily  on 
Cromwell,  w^ho  tenderly  loved  his  upright,  high-minded, 
and  gallant  son-in-law.  He  had  stood  shoulder  to 
shoulder  with  him  in  the  hard-fought  battle,  and  wit- 
nessed his  integrity  in  the  hall  of  council ;  and  with 
more  than  ordinary  pride,  given  him  his  daughter  for  a 
bride.  A  pure  patriot — incorruptible,  fearless,  and  reso- 
lute, he  was  a  strong  man  in  those  perilous  times,  and  a 
firm  support  to  Cromw^ell.  It  is  true,  as  old  White- 
locke  says,  "  he  was  very  stiff  in  his  ways  and  pur- 
poses ;"  and,  probably,  had  more  influence  over  his 
father-in-law,  than  any  other  man.  He  had  all  his  iron 
will ;  and  wielded  the  pen  as  w^ell  as  the  sword.  Bred  a 
lawyer,  he  understood  better  than  most  of  the  repub- 
lican leaders,  the  affairs  of  state,  and  "  was  exceedingly 
forward  as  to  the  business  of  the  Commonwealth." 

After  the  battle  of  Worcester,  parliament  voted  not 
only  £4000  per  annum  to  Cromw^ell,  but  also  £2000  to 
Ireton,  and  other  sums  to  Monk,  Whalley,  Okey,  and 
Alured.   (Ireton  w^as  the  only  man  who  refused  to  re- 


1651.]  HIS     TRADUCERS.  347 

ceive  his  portion.;  A  stern  republican  he  looked  with 
Spartan  contempt  on  the  pomp  and  luxuries  with  which 
others  were  pleased,  and  wrote  to  parliament  that  "  he 
did  not  wish  their  gifts,  that  they  had  many  just  debts, 
which  he  desired  they  would  pay  before  they  made  any 
such  presents  ;  that  he  had  no  need  of  their  land,  and, 
therefore,  would  not  have  it ;  and  should  be  better 
pleased  to  see  them  doing  the  service  of  the  nation, 
than  so  liberal  in  disposing  of  the  pubHc  treasure."* 
Every  one  is  compelled  to  acknowledge  the  purity  of 
Ireton's  intentions,  and  his  integrity  of  character.  But 
he  clung  faithfully  to  Cromwell ;  and  so  his  enemies  un- 
blushingly  declare,  without  the  shadow  of  proof,  that  if 
he  had  lived  he  would  have  opposed  his  ambitious 
father-in-law.  To  perfect  this  singular  logic,  they  go 
a  step  farther,  and  assert  that  Cromwell  v/as  glad  to 
hear  of  his  son-in-law's  death.  Making  their  own 
mean  suspicions  the  basis  of  their  argument,  they  draw 
conclusions  more  dishonorable  to  themselves  than  to 
the  man  they  would  traduce.  Yet  Villemain  puts  it 
down  as  a  fact,  and  even  Forster  has  incorporated  it  in 
his  "  Statesmen  of  the  Commonwealth  of  England."  If 
the  latter  had  paused  a  moment  to  think,  he  could  not 
have  been  guilty  of  an  act  of  such  base  injustice.  To 
accuse  a  father,  and  such  a  father  as  Cromwell,  of  re- 
joicing that  a  son-in-law,  who  had  ever  been  true  as 
steel  to  his  fortunes — the  bravest  heart  of  all  that  sur- 
rounded him — was  dead,  even  though  it  broke  his 
daughter's  heart,  because  there  was  a  chance  that  he 

*  Vide  Ludlow's  Memoirs. 


348  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

might,  at  some  futm'e  time,  stand  in  the  way  of  his 
ambition,  is  one  of  the  meanest  and  falsest  accusations 
that  unblushing  hatred  ever  uttered.  When  malice  or 
prejudice  can  descend  so  low,  we  are  not  surprised  to 
find  one  man*  who  boldly  charges  Cromwell  with  being 
a  coward.  A  more  affectionate  parent  than  he  never 
lived — all  his  letters  breathe  the  fondest  love.  From 
the  perilous  edge  of  battle — in  the  midst  of  the  w^eary 
march,  or  bustle  of  preparation — from  the  field  of  the 
dead,  he  wrote  to  his  wafe  and  children,  inquiring  after 
all  their  Uttle  household  affairs,  and  caring  for  all  their 
troubles,  as  if  the  welfare  of  a  nation  were  not  resting 
on  his  heart. 

Ireton's  body  was  brought  over  from  Ireland,  and  the 
most  imposing  ceremonies  decreed  in  its  honor.  Lam- 
bert was  appointed  lord-deputy  in  his  place,  but  did  not 
go — rumor  said,  because  Widow  Ireton  did  not  wish  to 
give  place  to  the  handsome  Lady  Lambert,  her  rival. 
Fleetwood  was  finally  sent,  and  being  a  widower,  in 
process  of  time  married  the  former. 

While  Cromwell  was  endeavoring  to  make  parlia^ 
merit  settle  on  some  plan  for  the  future  government  of 
the  nation — assembling,  again  and  again,  the  principal 
statesmen  to  discuss  the  question  at  his  house,  and  giving 
as  his  ow^n  fixed  opinion,  that  one  w^ith  something  of  a 
monarchical  power  in  it  was  to  be  preferred — the 
government  had  got  into  difficulty  with  the  Dutch. 
Scotland,  and  Ireland,  and  the  islands  of  Scilly,  Jersey, 
&c. ;  which  formerly  caused  so  much  trouble,  had  been 

*  Crawford,  who  is  defended  by  Holies. 


1651.]  WAR     WITH     THE     DUTCH.  349 

reduced  to  submission,  while  Portugal,  alarmed  at  the 
danger  it  had  provoked  by  sheltering  Prince  Rupert, 
had  acknowledged  its  error,  and  promised  amendment. 
But  the  United  Provinces,  which  had  always  sympa- 
thized with  the  royal  family,  and  protected  its  members, 
now  jealous  of  the  growing  power  of  a  sister  republic, 
hesitated  not  to  commit  aggressive  acts.  Dr.  Dorislaus, 
formerly  sent  out  as  ambassador,  had  been  assassinated 
and  no  satisfaction  given.  Oliver  St.  John  went  next, 
to  propose  a  settlement  of  difficulties,  but  was  treated 
with  so  much  insult  that  he  returned  indignant,  and  im- 
mediately set  on  foot  measures  of  retahation,  and  caused 
the  celebrated  Navigation  Act,  prohibiting  the  importa- 
tion of  goods  into  England,  except  in  English  vessels, 
to  be  passed.*  Holland  claimed  supremacy  of  the  seas, 
and  made  immense  profits  in  the  carrying  trade  at 
which  this  Act  struck  a  death-blow.  Hence,  when  it 
was  received  there,  "it  changed,"  says  a  quaint  writer  of 
that  period,  "the  constitution  of  that  people  from  a 
phlegmatic  to  a  perfect  sanguine  complexion."  Nego- 
tiations followed,  but  were  broken  off  by  the  com- 
mencement of  hostilities  at  sea.  Van  Tromp,  at  the 
head  of  the  Dutch  fleet,  and  Blake,  the  English  admiral — 
who,  though  he  did  not  begin  his  military  life  till  fifty 
years  of  age,  was  now  the  first  naval  officer  in  the 
world — came  in  collision,  at  Dover,  about  a  mere  matter 
of  etiquette,  and  after  a  fierce  fight  parted — the  Dutch 
having  much  the  w^orst  of  it. 

Sir  George  Asycough,  also,  with  forty  ships,  attacked 

*  October  9th,  1651. 


350  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

the  famous  De  Ruyter  with  fifty,  but  after  a  severe  en- 
gagement was  compelled  to  let  his  antagonist,  with  his 
convoy  of  merchantmen,  go  his  w^ay.  In  October, 
another  battle  w^as  fought,  between  Blake  and  Tromp, 
on  the  coast  of  Kent,  in  which  the  Dutch  were  roughly 
handled.  The  next  month,  however,  Blake  was  sadly 
beaten  by  his  antagonist,  who  had  been  re-inforced  with 
De  Ruyter's  fleet.  Tromp  was  so  elated  by  the  victory, 
that  he  nailed  a  broom  to  his  mast,  to  intimate  that  he 
would  sweep  the  English  fleet  from  the  sea.  But  in 
February  of  the  next  year,  Blake,  with  a  fleet  of  eighty 
sail,  assisted  by  Dean  and  Monk — who  having  finished 
their  fighting  on  land  had  been  tranferred  to  the  sea — 
came  up  with  the  Dutch  fleet  of  seventy-six  sail  off 
Portland,  and  immediately  engaged  it.  The  battle 
lasted  three  days,  during  which  time  there  were  such  a 
cannonading  and  uproar  as  are  seldom  heard  on  the 
deep.  Nearly  2000  men  were  slain  on  either  side,  and 
]  500  Dutch  prisoners  taken.  The  English  claimed  the 
victory;  though  Tromp  made  a  skilful  retreat,  and 
saved  most  of  his  ships. 

From  this  time  onw^ard,  fortune  constantly  declared 
against  the  Dutch :  their  merchantmen  were  captured  ; 
their  commerce  destroyed ;  their  pride  humbled  ;  and 
they  at  last  compelled  to  sue  for  peace. 

In  the  meantime,  events  were  hastening  to  a  crisis  in 
parliament.  Everyday  it  separated  farther  and  farther 
from  Cromwell,  until,  at  length,  they  occupied  the  ground 
of  direct  hostility  to  each  other.  The  former,  like  their 
predecessors  the  Presbyterians,  resolved  to  get  rid  of  the 


1652.]  PETITION     OF     OFFICERS.  351 

army,  so  that  they  might  safely  attack  Cromwell ;  and 
hence  introduced  resolutions  for  its  reduction.  The  lat- 
ter, however,  easily  penetrated  their  designs,  and  resolved 
to  thwart  them — peacefully,  if  he  could,  by  persuasion 
and  argument — and  for  this  purpose  held  conference 
after  conference  with  the  leading  members.  These  pro- 
ducing no  effect,  a  petition  was  presented  from  the  offi- 
cers of  the  Army,  praying,  first,  that  measures  might  be 
taken  for  the  propagation  of  the  gospel,  and  encourage- 
ment of  godly  ministers.  2d.  That  the  administration 
of  the  law  might  be  regulated,  so  that  justice  could  be 
secured.  3d.  That  profane  and  unworthy  persons  be 
removed  from  places  of  trust.  4th.  That  the  abuses  of 
the  excise  be  corrected.  5th.  That  those  who  had  loaned 
money  on  the  public  faith  be  paid.  6th  and  7th.  That 
the  soldiers  might  be  paid  their  arrears,  and  the  treaties 
made  with  the  enemy  fulfilled.  8th.  That  the  yearly 
revenues  of  the  State  should  be  placed  in  the  treasury, 
and  a  yearly  report  rendered.  The  9th  specification 
struck  at  monopolies,  pluraHties,  &c.  The  10th,  at 
public  beggary,  and  vagabondism  in  general.  The 
12th,  and  the  last,  had  reference  to  a  new  parliament 
and  the  manner  of  electing  it.  This  petition  was 
referred  to  a  committee,  and  then  the  bill  for  the 
dissolution  of  parliament  came  up. 

This  was  in  the  autumn  of  1652  ;  and  soon  after  (in 
November),  a  conversation  is  reported  by  Whitelocke 
to  have  occurred  between  him  and  Cromwell,  in  St. 
James's  Park,  in  which  the  latter  openly  hinted  at  mak- 
ing himself  king.     Most  writers  of  this  period,  give  this 


352  OLIVERCROMWELL. 

dialogue  in  full;  but  it  seems  strange  any  reasonable 
man  can  put  faith  in  its  correctness.  It  was  written  after 
the  restoration,  when  the  memory  of  this  weak-headed, 
supple,  and  fawning  minister,  might  well  forget,  or  add, 
in  order  to  escape  punishment  from  Charles  II.  He  makes 
out  that  he  himself  strongly  urged  on  Cromwell  to  call 
Charles  11.  to  the  throne — a  thing,  he  would  as  soon 
have  cut  off  his  head  as  done,  if  he  suspected,  as  he 
affirms  he  did,  the  ambitious  designs  of  the  lord-general. 
If  anything  were  wanting  to  render  the  whole  dialogue 
ridiculous,  it  is  the  assertion  that  Cromwell,  after 
this,  treated  him  coolly,  because  he  was  afraid  of 
his  opposition.  Cromwell  afraid  of  Whitelocke  I  Poor 
Bulstrode  must  have  reckoned  largely  on  Charles  Stu- 
art's simplicity,  to  have  supposed  he  would  swallow  this. 
Oliver  had,  also,  frequent  consultations  with  his  offi- 
cers, respecting  the  course  they  should  take  ;  and,  in 
the  opening  of  the  spring  of  1653,  it  became  evident 
that  the  result  of  the  generalship  of  the  two  parties, 
would  soon  be  made  known.  A  bill  had  been  intro- 
duced into  parliament,  settling  the  basis  of  a  new  re- 
presentation— one  clause  of  which  made  the  Rump 
Parliament  a  part  of  the  new.  But,  Oliver  saw  with 
his  far-searching  glance,  that  clean  work  must  be  made, 
and  this  war  of  factions  ended ;  and  so  he  opposed  the 
bill.  There  were  other  features  in  it  equally  ob- 
noxious ;*  at  all  events,  there  is  sufficient  evidence  that 
it  was  not  intended  to  secure  the  welfare  of  England, 
but  the  overthrow  of  Cromwell.     For  three  years  they 

*  The  bill  was  never  preserved. 


1653.]  BREAKS     UP     PARLIAMENT.  353 

had  been  urged,  in  vain,  to  fix  the  day  of  their  own 
dissolution,  and  settle  the  mode  of  representation ;  and 
now,  all  at  once,  they  wished  to  hurry  the  bill  through 
by  stealth. 

Cromwell  has  been  accused  of  trickery  and  hypoc- 
risy here ;  but,  will  those  who  do  so,  tell  us  what  they 
think  of  the  actions  of  parliament  ?  Forster's  long  and 
explicit  account  of  the  causes  leading  to  the  breaking  up 
of  the  Rump  Parliament,  is  unworthy  of  credit ;  for  he 
starts  with  the  basis,  that  parliament  was  right  and 
Cromwell  wrong  throughout ;  and  hence,  believes  every 
word  of  his  enemies,  and  denies  the  truth  of  all  his  de- 
clarations, unless  they  can  be  tortured  into  evidence 
against  him. 


BREAKING  UP  OF  THE  RUMP  PARLIAMENT. 

On  the  19th  of  April,  1653,  Cromwell  held,  in  his 
house  in  Whitehall,  his  last  conference  with  the  mem- 
bers respecting  the  new  bill  under  consideration. 
About  twenty  were  present ;  and  after  long  consulta- 
tion, parted  without  having  agreed  upon  anything. 
They  promised,  however,  to  meet  him  again,  next 
morning,  and  consult  farther.  At  the  time  appointed, 
he  repaired  to  the  reception-room,  and  waited  their 
arrival.  But  not  one  of  them  came ;  though  messenger 
after  messenger  arrived  in  breathless  haste,  announcing 
that  the  bill  was  being  hurried  through  parliament,  and 
would  soon  become  a  law.  He  could  hardly  believe  it 
possible  that  those  twenty  members,  constituting  nearly 


354  OLIVERCROMVVELL.  • 

half  of  the  House,*  had  dehberately  Ued  to  him,  and  were 
resolved,  by  treachery  and  fraud,  to  carry  their  measures. 
It  was  a  dangerous  experiment  to  endeavor  to  spring  a 
mine  under  Cromv^rell.  Kings,  parliaments,  and  ar- 
mies, had  ever  found  it  so  ;  and  it  must  go  hard  if  this 
little  Rump  Parliament  could  venture  safely  upon  it. 

No  sooner  was  he  convinced  the  news  was  true,  than 
he  started  for  the  House,  taking  Harrison,  with  a  trusty 
company  of  soldiers,  with  him.  Placing  one  portion  of 
them  at  the  door,  another  in  the  lobby,  and  about 
twenty  or  thirty,  just  without  the  chamber,  he  entered 
the  House,  and  after  pausing  a  moment  on  the  thresh- 
hold  and  surveying  the  members,  advanced  and  took  his 
seat.  At  this  time,  his  hair  was  sprinkled  with  grey  ; 
w^hich,  together  with  the  plain  black  clothes  he  wore,  gave 
a  venerable  appearance  to  his  countenance.  Vane  was 
speaking  when  he  entered,  urging,  with  all  the  eloquence 
he  was  master  of,  the  necessity  of  im.mediate  action  on 
the  bill.  Cromwell  listened  with  the  deepest  attention, 
until  he  closed  his  appeal ;  and  then,  as  the  Speaker  was 
about  to  put  the  question,  arose  to  reply.  Calm  and  re- 
spectful, at  first,  he  alluded  to  the  great  work  that  had 
been  done,  and  gave  them  all  honor  for  the  part  they 
had  borne  in  it ;  but  vv'axing  warm  as  he  proceeded,  he 
began  to  speak  also  of  their  injustice,  delays,  strifes,  and 
petty  ambitions  ;  hurling  fiercely  accusation  after  accu- 
sation, in  their  faces,  till  Wentworth  rose,  and  making 
his  voice  heard,  rebuked  him  for  his  language.  "  Come, 
Qome,"  broke  forth  Cromwell,  "we  have  had  enough  of 
•  It  consisted  of  fifty-three  members  on  this  day. 


1653.]      RUMP     PARLIAMENT     VANISHES.  355 

this.  I  will  put  an  end  to  your  prating."  He  had  now 
fairly  got  on  his.  battle  face,  and  his  large  grey  eyes 
seemed  to  emit  fire,  as  he  strode  forth  on  the  floor  of 
the  House;  and  clapping  his  hat  on  his  head,  and 
stamping  the  floor  with  his  feet,  poured  forth  a  torrent 
of  invective  on  the  now  thoroughly- alarmed  parliament. 
That  speech  is  lost ;  but  it  scathed  Kke  fire.  "  You," 
said  he  to  Vane,  who  interrupted  him,  "  might  have  pre- 
vented this,  but  you  are  a  juggler,  and  have  not  so  much 
as  common  honesty.  You  are  no  parliament.  I  say, 
you  are  no  parliament.  You  have  sat  too  long  already ; 
you  shall  now  give  place  to  better  men  ;"  and  turning 
to  his  officer,  Harrison,  he  gave  a  brief  word  of  com- 
mand, as  he  would  on  the  field  of  battle  ;  and  his  brave 
musketeers,  with  shouldered  pieces,  marched  sternly  in. 
As  fie  stood  amid  the  weapons  that  had  so  often  sur- 
rounded him  on  the  field  of  death,  he  began  to  launch 
his  thunderbolts  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left ;  and 
breaking  over  all  ceremonies  of  speech,  boldly  named 
the  crimes  of  which  they  vv^ere  guilty;  and  closed  up 
with  "  Corrupt,  unjust  persons ;  scandalous  to  the  pro- 
fession of  the  gospel.  How  can  you  he  a  parliament  for 
God's  people  ?  Depart,  I  say,  and  let  us  have  done  with 
you."  And  they  went  in  hot  haste,  scourged  by  his 
tongue,  as  they  fled.  "  You,"  said  he  to  Chaloner,  "  are 
a  drunkard."  "  You,  Wentworth,  an  adulterer  ;"  and 
as  Marten  passed,  he  asked,  if  a  whore-master  was  fit 
to  govern.  To  Yane,  who  continued  to  remonstrate, 
he  exclaimed,  "  Sir  Harry  Vane,  Sir  Harry  Vane  f 
The  Lord  deliver  me  from  Sir  Harry  Vane !"     Then, 


356  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

pointing  to  the  Speaker,  Lenthall,  who  still  retained  his 
seat,  he  bid  Harrison  help  him  down  ;  which  he  did. 
After  all  had  departed,  he  took  up  the  mace,  and,  look- 
ing at  it  a  moment,  said  to  the  soldiers,  "  Take  away 
this  bauble."  He  then  tore  the  bill  of  dissolution,  which 
had  been  under  discussion,  to  pieces  ;  and  ordering  the 
doors  to  be  locked,  turned  away  in  the  midst  of  his 
guard,  and  repaired  again  to  Whitehall. 

Thus  ended  the  rump  parliament ;  and  England  lay 
on  Cromwell's  shoulders.  So  did  Bonaparte  march 
into  the  council  of  five  hundred,  w^ith  his  brave  grena- 
diers at  his  back. 

But  no  sooner  was  this  summary  dissolution  effected, 
than  Cromwell  was  heard  to  say,  ''Its  you  who  have 
forced  me  to  this.  I  have  sought  the  Lord,  night  and 
day,  that  he  would  rather  slay  me,  than  put  me  upon 
the  doing  of  this  work."  But  it  was  done ;  and  when 
the  first  gust  of  passion  had  passed,  he  was  himself  again, 
and  took  the  government  on  his  brave  heart  as  calmly, 
as  if  he  were  born  a  king. 

This  dissolution  of  parliament  is  called  a  des- 
potic and  tyrannical  act  ;  and  so  it  w^as.  But,  will  any 
one  tell  us  what  other  alternative  was  left.  To  sup- 
pose that  argument  and  reason  would  triumph  in  that 
strife  of  factions  and  chaos  of  sentiments  is  absurd. 
The  truth  is,  England  needed  some  strong  hand  to 
steady  her,  and  Cromwell's  alone  could  do  it.  Power 
was  needed  to  overawe  the  imbecile  and  ambitious 
spirits  that  were  too  ignorant  to  rule,  and  too  selfish  to 
be  united.     His  measures  were  high-handed;  but  we 


1651.]  DEFENCE     OF     HIS     CONDUCT.  357 

cannot  see  what  else  could  have  been  done,  unless  a 
Stuart  had  been  called  in.  Besides,  he  must  either  con- 
sent to  have  all  that  for  which  he  had  periled  his  life,  and 
struggled  so  long  to  save,  thrown  away  by  ambitious  men, 
or  resort  to  violence.  The  parhament  pushed  him  to  this 
point,  by  compelling  him  to  act  suddenly,  or  be  tricked 
out  of  what  he  deemed  to  be  essential  to  the  welfare  of 
the  country.  He  had  saved  the  nation  again  and 
again — indeed,  not  only  laid  the  corner-stone,  but  the 
topmost  block,  of  that  glorious  structure  of  Hberty ;  and 
it  was  "  not  right,  not  honest,"  to  endeavor  to  trample 
him  and  the  army  into  the  dust.  Moreover,  the  people 
(the  entire  mind  of  the  nation)  wanted  something  per- 
manent, around  which  it  could  settle.  The  Rump  Par- 
liament imparted  no  confidence,  and  gave  no  security. 
Cromwell  was  the  only  man  in  England  that  could 
keep  the  revolution  from  going  backward. 

In  great  revolutions,  the  supreme  power  must  finally 
always  be  lodged  in  the  army,  of  which  the  successful 
leader  is  the  representative.  The  strong  arm  of  power 
is  needed  to  mould  the  confused  elements  into  form  and 
permanent  shape — discussion  and  conventions  never, 
or  seldom,  can  do  it.  True,  Cromwell's  course  was 
despotic ;  but  the  cause  of  freedom,  and  the  ends  of 
justice,  demanded  it.  There  is  a  difference  between 
the  despotic  act  that  crushes  liberty,  and  the  one  that 
quells  lawless  violence.  The  fonns  of  justice  must 
sometimes  be  disregarded  to  save  its  spirit. 

At  all  events,  there  was  no  outcry  against  this  act. 
The  English  people,  who  had  not  failed  to  speak  out 


358  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

boldly  and  plainly  in  every  instance  of  arbitrary  power, 
let  this  pass  in  silence,  or  spoke  only  to  sanction  it. 
The  army  and  navy  sent  in  their  declarations  that  they 
would  stand  or  fall  by  Cromwell ;  and  all  over  the  king- 
dom there  were  thanksgivings  and  rejoicings.  We 
want  no  more  conclusive  evidence,  that  he  acted  in 
accordance  with  the  wishes  of  the  nation. 

Yet,  writers  treat  the  matter  as  if  this  parliament 
was  the  real  legitimate  power  of  the  realm,  w^hich  he 
found  standing  in  the  way  of  his  ambition ;  and  so,  in 
a  haughty  spirit  of  tyranny,  trampled  it  down.  It  had 
the  form  of  legality,  and  that  was  all — its  continuance, 
while  reduced  to  a  fe\v  men,  and  against  the  interests 
and  will  of  the  nation,  was,  in  fact,  an  usurpation. 
Not  over  forty  men  ruled  England,  who,  hiding  them- 
selves under  the  name  of  parliament,  because  there  was 
no  authority  but  their  own  to  dissolve  them,  usurped 
power  to  which  they  had  no  claim.  After  the  king's 
death,  instead  of  referring  the  government  to  the  people, 
they  assumed  the  supreme  power,  and  created  high 
courts  of  justice,  and  levied  taxes  without  the  consent  of 
the  nation — in  short,  constituted  themselves  an  irre- 
sponsible oligarchy,  and  were  bent  on  perpetuating  their 
rule.  Was  there  to  be  no  end  to  this  ?  or,  could  ten, 
or,  perhaps,  five  men,  constitute  a  parliament  of  Eng- 
land ?  We  imagine  that  Cromwell's  friends  viewed  the 
affair  in  a  very  different  light  from  those  who  condemn 
him  so  unqualifiedly.  Charles  knew  that  the  parliament 
he  attempted  to  destroy,  was  the  true  and  honest  repre- 
sentative of  England — Cromwell  knew  that  the  one  he 


1653.]  HIS     LETTER     TO     THE     SCOTCH.  359 

exterminated,  was  not.  Charles  believed  that  the  people 
would  regard  it  as  an  outrage  on  themselves — Cromwell, 
that  his  act  would  meet  with  universal  approbation. 
Charles's  despotic  act,  was  for  the  sole  purpose  of  assert- 
ing his  royal  prerogatives — Cromw^ell's,  to  save  England. 
It  is  laughable  to  hear  those  who  declaim  loudest 
against  the  death  of  the  king  as  unconstitutional,  pro- 
nounce Cromwell  a  despot  for  breaking  up  the  parlia- 
ment that  created  the  very  court  which  tried  him. 
When  this  parliament  condemns  Charles,  it  is  unworthy 
of  respect — but  when  Oliver  breaks  it  up,  it  is  a  noble, 
legislative  body. 

The  same  day  on  which  he  dissolved  parliament, 
he  took  Lambert  and  Harrison  with  him,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  council  of  State,  (of  which  Bradshaw 
was  still  president,)  and  entering  the  chamber  where 
they  sat,  said,  "  Gentlemen,  if  you  are  met  here  as 
private  persons,  you  shall  not  be  disturbed ;  but  if,  as  a 
council  of  State,  this  is  no  place  for  you ;  and  since 
you  can't  but  know  what  was  done  at  the  House  this 
morning,  so  take  notice  that  the  parliament  is  dis- 
solved." Bradshaw  replied,  "We  have  heard  what 
you  did  at  the  House  in  the  morning ;  and  before  many 
hours,  all  England  will  hear  it.  But,  you  are  mis- 
taken to  think  that  the  parliament  is  dissolved ;  for  no 
power  under  heaven  can  dissolve  them,  but  themselves  : 
therefore,  take  notice  of  that."*  But  they  went  with 
parhament;  and  a  new  council  of  State,  composed  of 

*  Vide  Ludlow's  Memoirs. 


360  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

thirteen,*  was  formed,  of  which  Cromwell  was  a  mem- 
ber. 

The  next  morning,  the  Metxurius  Politicus,  a  gov- 
ernment paper,  with  that  prudence  and  caution  which 
distinguishes  government  papers  generally,  had  the  fol- 
lowing short  and  business-hke  notice  of  one  of  the  most 
momentous  events  that  ever  occurred  in  England: 
"April  20th — The  lord-general  declared  yesterday,  in 
parliament,  divers  reasons  whereof  a  present  period 
should  be  put  to  the  sitting  of  this  parliament ;  and  it 
was  accordingly  done,  the  Speaker  and  members  all  de- 
parting— the  grounds  of  which  proceeding  will  (it's  pro- 
bable) shortly  be  made  public. "f  During  the  night, 
some  one  put  the  following  placard  on  the  door  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  ''This  house  to  let,  unfurnished .''% 

A  declaration  appeared  in  a  few  days,  giving  the 
reasons  of  the  dissolution ;  but,  if  any  one  wishes  to  be 
convinced  of  the  purity  of  Cromwell's  motives,  and  the 
integrity  in  which  he  performed  this  arbitrary  act,  let 
him  read  the  account  of  it  in  his  speech  before  the  par- 
liament he  soon  after  summoned.  It  is  impossible  for  a 
candid  mind  to  peruse  this  carefully,  without  feeling, 
however  his  reason  may  object,  that  he  acted  sincerely. 
Truth  is  stamped  on  every  line  of  it ;  and  though  using 
no  eloquence,  he  speaks  from  the  heart,  and  "  straight 
on,"  unburdening  himself  laboriously,  yet  fully. § 

The  summons  which  was  issued  six  weeks  after,  to 

*  This  number  was  preferred,  because  Christ  and  His  apostles  made 
thirteen, 
t  Vide  Godwin.      |  Foster's  Statesmen.      §  Vide  Appendix,  No.  V. 


1653.]  LITTLE     PARLIAMENT.  361 

convoke  the  new  parliament,  was  made  out  in  the  name 
of  Cromwell  alone,  and  sent  to  a  hundred  and  forty 
persons,  all  of  whom,  with  the  exception  of  two, 
answered  to  the  call,  and  assembled  on  the  4th  of  July, 
in  the  council  chamber  of  Whitehall.  This  parlia- 
ment, called  the  Barebones  Parliament,*  from  the  name 

*"It  would  be  scarcely  necessary  to  refer  to  the  numberless  vulgar 
slanders  and  ridiculous  fictions  that  have  sprung  out  of  this  notorious 
name,  but  that  it  too  well  expresses  the  spirit  in  which  the  history  of 
these  times  has  (until  of  late)  been  written,  to  be  altogether  omitted. 
For  example,  one  historian  talks  of  '  Praise-God  Barebone '  having 
had  two  brothers,  the  Christian  name  of  the  first  of  whom  was  Christ- 
came-into-the-world-to-save ;  and  of  the  second.  If- Christ -had-not 
died-thou-hadst-been-damned.  He  introduces  his  anecdote  with  the 
suspicious  words,  '  I  have  been  informed  that  there  were  three  bro- 
thers ;'  and  adds,  that  '  some  people,  tired  of  the  long  name  of  the 
younger  brother,  are  said  to  have  omitted  the  former  part  of  the  sen- 
tence, and  to  have  called  him  familiarly  Damned  Barebone.'  Another 
writer,  according  to  Mr.  Goodwin,  the  Reverend  James  Brome,  in  a 
book  of  Travels  over  England,  Scotland,  and  Wales,  second  edition, 
1707,  has  endeavored  to  render  the  satire  more  complete,  by  giving 
the  names  of  a  'jury  returned  in  the  county  of  Sussex,  in  the  late  re- 
bellious, troublesome  times,  as  follows  (p.  279) :  Accepted  Trevor,  of 
Norsham  ;  Redeemed  Compton,  of  Battel ;  Faint-not  Hewit,  of  Heath- 
field  ;  Make-peace  Heaton,  of  Hare  ;  God-reward  Smart,  of  Tisehurst; 
Stand-fast-on-high  Stringer,  of  Crowhurst ;  Earth  Adams,  of  Warble- 
ton  ;  Called  Lower,  of  the  same  ;  Kill-sin  Pimple,  of  Witham  ;  iJc- 
turn  Spelman,  of  Watling;  Be  faithful  Joiner,  of  Britling ;  Fly- 
debate  Roberts,  of  the  same  ;  Fight-the-good-fight-of -faith  White,  of 
Emer;  More-fruit  Fowler,  of  East  Hodley:  Hope-for  Bending,  of 
the  same  ;  Graceful  Harding,  of  Lewes  ;  Weep-not  Billing,  of  the 
same  ;  Meek  Brewer,  of  Okeham.'  It  is  really  scarcely  credible  that 
this  list  should  have  been  copied  into  Hume's  History  of  England : 
80  it  is,  however,  and  Dr.  Zachary  Grey  had  previously  given  it  the 
authority  of  his  name,  if  his  name  had  been  capable  of  bearing  author 
16 


362  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

of  one  of  the  members  from  London,  "  Praise  God  Bar- 
hones,"  was,  certainly,  a  most  extraordinary  collection 
of  men.  The  grounds  on  which  they  were  selected, 
and  the  characters  they  bore,  should  for  ever  shield 
Cromwell  from  the  charge  of  being  governed,  in  all 
his  acts,  by  selfish  ambition.  They  prove,  conclusively, 
our  statement,  that  he  was  deceived  respecting  the  gov- 
ernment that  might  be  adopted.  He  verily  believed 
he  was  to  restore  the  Israelitish  theocracy,  and  that  the 
reign  of  the  saints  was  to  begin  on  earth ;  and  so  did 
half  of  England.  The  members  were  selected  from 
those  named,  at  request  of  the  council,  by  the  congre 
gational  churches  in  the  different  counties.  Theso 
churches  v/ere  directed  to  return  persons  "faithful 
loving  truth,  fearing  God,  and  hating  covetousness ;" 
and  also  qualified  for  the  management  of  affairs  of  State 
Never  before  did  such  a  body  of  men  assemble  in  the 
form  of  parliament.  Able  statesmen  there  were  among 
them ;  but  the  greater  part  had  evidently  more  religious 
enthusaism,  than  knowledge  of  civil  matters,  or  taste 
for  them. 

Cromwell's  opening  address  was  a  justification  of 
the  course  he  had  taken,  and  all  the  reasons  given,  which 
will  be  found,  as  stated  above,  in  the  Appendix ;  and, 
though  lengthy,  will  amply  repay  the  perusal. 

Having  finished  his  address,  which  occupied  more 
than  an  hour,  he  presented  an  instrument  by  which  the 

ity  in  matters  which  involved  hatred  to  the  Puritans.  Unblinded  by 
such  hatred,  these  men  would  have  been  the  first  to  see  that  this  no- 
table list  was  a  mere  piece  of  of  mauvaise  picasantcrie."  Vide  British 
Statesmen,  page  538.     Neal  also  quotes  this  seriously. 


1653.]  LITTLE     PARLIAMENT.  363 

government  was  surrendered  to  parliament  till  the  3d  of 
Nov.,  1654.  Three  months  previous  to  their  dissolu- 
tion, they  were  to  choose  persons  to  succeed  them,  who 
should  occupy  their  place  and  authority  for  one  yeai% 
and  settle  what  the  succeeding  government  should  be. 
He  thus  formally  resigned  all  power — not  even  reserving 
to  himself  a  seat  in  their  councils.  He  knew  nothing, 
or  scarcely  nothing,  personally  of  these  members,  and 
had  no  claims  upon  them.  They  were  in  no  way  crea- 
tures of  his  to  v.^hom  he  thus  intrusted  the  power  he  is  ac- 
cused of  tyranicaily  swaying.  He  knew  them  only  to  be 
God-fearing  men,  full  of  sincerity,  and  of  incorruptible 
integrity.  Will  his  enemies  tell  us  why  he  gathered  such 
a  body  of  men  together,  or  what  use  he  expected  to 
make  of  them  in  advancing  his  deep  and  dark  designs  ? 
One  would  think  he  would  have  chosen  more  manage- 
able tools,  and  placed  about  him  those  whom  he  knew,  and 
w^ho  were  sworn  to  his  interests.  An  ambitious  tyrant 
never  selects  those  to  co-operate  with  him  whom  he 
knows  no  bribery  can  corrupt,  no  threatenings  awe,  and 
no  selfish  motives  turn  from  their  integrity.  Though 
many  of  them  were  of  low  origin,  and  fanatical  in  their 
views,  they  were  straightforward  and  true — fearing 
nothing  but  the  displeasure  of  God,  and  capable  of 
being  governed  only  by  honest  dealing.  There  were  a 
few  exceptions,  but  such  was  the  character  of  the 
majority  of  this  Barebones  Parliament. 

The  next  morning  after  Cromwell's  address,  the}*- 
met,  and  spent  the  whole  day,  from  eight  till  seven  in 
the  evening,  in  prayer  and  exhortation — a  strange  me- 


364  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

thod  for  a  parliament  to  adopt,  and  yet  vastly  better 
than  that  adopted  by  most  of  our  legislatures  of  the 
present  day  to  kill  time.  Having  chosen  Francis 
Rouse,  provost  of  Eton,  and  fam.ous  for  his  revision  of 
the  Psalms,  Speaker,  they  adjourned.  The  next  day, 
they  proceeded  to  business.  A  new  council  of  State 
was  soon  after  formed — or  rather,  eighteen  members 
were  added  to  the  original  thirteen,  making,  in  all 
thirty-one.  The  day  following  this  important  move- 
ment, w^as  spent  in  prayer  and  exhortation  ;  and  it  was 
the  custom  every  morning  to  open  a  prayer-meeting  as 
soon  as  ten  or  a  dozen  members  arrived,  and  keep  it  up 
until  a  quorum  was  assembled.  Truly,  they  were 
''men  fearing  God."  An  address  to  the  people  of 
England  was  voted,  filled  with  noble  sentiments,  and 
high  Christian  hopes  that  the  day  of  the  complete 
triumph  of  religion  had  come,  and  the  "  glory  of  the 
Lord  was  about  to  be  revealed." 

We  will  not  specify  all  the  acts  of  this  extraordinary 
^parliament ;  the  most  important  w^ere,  one  to  abolish 
tithes ;  another,  to  provide  for  the  support  of  a  godly 
ministry ;  and  a  third,  to  do  away  with  the  Court  of 
Chancery,  in  which  some  23000  causes  lay  locked  up. 

At  length,  on  the  2d  of  December  a  motion  was 
made  to  appoint  a  travelling  commission  of  Puritans  to 
clear  the  church  of  all  base  and  heretical  ministers. 
The  debate  on  this  \vaxed  high,  and  continued  till  the 
10th,  when  parliament  adjourned  over  to  Monday. 
On  Monday  morning  early,  before  all  had  arrived,  a  mo- 
ion  was  made  and  carried  tthat  the  parliament  should 


1653.]  INCONSISTENCY.  365 

be  dissolved.  The  Speaker,  preceded  by  the  mace  and 
accompanied  by  his  friends,  then  walked  to  Whitehall  and 
formally  surrendered  to  Cromwell  the  power  with  which 
he  had  been  entrusted.  The  latter  was  surprised  and 
deeply  moved  at  this  sudden  result  :■ — his  enemies,  how- 
ever, say  his  emotion  was  entirely  feigned,  and  that  it 
was  his  work  throughout.  If  he  had  shown  signs  of 
joy,  it  would  have  revealed  his  part  in  the  matter — as 
ho  exhibited  regret,  it  also  proved  his  inward  delight — 
at  least  it  must  have  been  so,  as  he  was  a  hypocrite, 
and  managing  all  the  while  after  supreme  power. 
What  a  prophetic  mind  he  must  have  possessed,  and 
how  clear  to  him  all  the  dark  future,  from  the  outset, 
have  appeared.  He  trifled  with  the  king,  designing 
to  overthrow  him — he  purged  parliament,  and  brought 
Charles  to  trial,  while  fighting  furiously  at  Preston — 
exposed  his  life  in  Ireland,  knowing  he  should  succeed — = 
returned  from  the  conquest  of  Scotland,  perfectly  con- 
scious that  the  Long  Parliament  would  endeavor  to  be 
permanent — endeavored  to  end  it  peacefully,  so  that  he 
could,  with  the  more  plausibility,  break  it  up  forcibly — 
summoned  a  new  one,  and  all  strangers  and  honest 
men,  on  purpose  to  have  them  prove  their  imbecility — 
put  them  under  obligations  to  sit  a  year,  and  before 
they  should  separate  provide  for  a  new  representation, 
because  he  wished  to  have  them  disperse  without  doing 
it — made  plans,  on  purpose  to  have  them  baffled,  and 
rejoiced  in  any  change  of  events,  because  he  had  cal- 
culated them  accurately — and  eventually,  in  this  tor- 
tuous way,  reached  the  goal  towards  which  he  had  ever 


366  OLIVER     CROMWELL.. 

struggled,  viz.,  supreme  power.  A  man  wdth  such 
superhuman  foresight,  one  would  think,  might  arrive  at 
his  purpose  in  an  easier  and  more  direct  manner.  No 
greater  illustration  of  human  reason  clouded  and  stulti- 
fied by  mahce  and  prejudice,  can  be  given,  than  a  clear 
statement  of  the  facts  of  the  revolution  placed  beside 
the  explanation  of  Cromweii's  conduct  by  his  enemies. 

This  Barebones  Parliament  sat  a  little  over  five 
months  ;  and  though  it  did  not  accomplish  much;  events 
from  without  conspired  to  give  it  a  prominence  abroad. 
The  war  wdth  the  Dutch  was  prosecuted  with  vigor  and 
astonishing  success.  Blake  and  Monk  rode  triumph- 
antly on  the  ocean.  The  great  victory  over  the  Dutch, 
mentioned  some  pages  back,  brought  commissioners  to 
England,  who  asked  for  a  cessation  of  hostilities,  while 
negotiations  could  be  carried  on.  Ohver  received 
them  haughtily,  and  refused  to  grant  their  request — 
nay,  insisted  on  all  the  conditions  formerly  demanded 
by  St.  John. 

At  length,  however,  a  compromise  w^as  made,  and  the 
commissioners  took  their  leave.  But  just  two  days 
previous  to  their  departure  (on  the  29th  of  July),  ano- 
ther terrible  battle  had  been  fought  between  the  two 
fleets,  near  the  coast  of  Holland.  Monk  carried  his 
vessels  into  action,  with  the  same  desperation  he  was 
accustomed  to  lead  his  regiment  to  the  breach.  The 
fight  lasted  several  days ;  but  the  Dutch  fleet  w^as  finally 
dispersed,  and  Van  Tromp  slain.  Monk  and  Blake 
were  loaded  with  honors;  and  Cromwell,  at  a  public 


1653.]  MADE     LORD     PROTECTOR.  367 

dinner  given  them  on  their  return,  hung  chains  of  gold, 
and  medals  of  honor,  about  their  necks. 

The  next  month  (August),  Whitelocke  was  despatched 
as  ambassador-extraordinary,  to  her  Christian  majesty, 
Christina,  the  queen  of  Sweden.  He  was  received 
with  great  honor,  on  account  of  the  illustrious  deeds  of 
Oliver,  whose  stormy  life,  and  great  adventures,  had 
filled  her  with  admiration,  which  she  took  no  pains  to 
conceal.  During  the  session  of  this  parhament,  also, 
Lilburn  came  back  from  his  banishment,  and  was  tried 
and  acquitted. 

Thus,  with  her  enemies  at  home  humbled ;  and  tri- 
umphant on  the  deep,  England  needed  only  a  steady 
government  to  rise  to  that  rank,  her  people  and  posi- 
tion fitted  her  to  take. 

The  Little  Parliament,  having  voluntarily  surrendered 
to  Cromwell  its  powers ;  he,  four  days  after  its  dispersion 
• — having  first  consulted  the  Lord  in  prayer — proceed- 
ed with  his  friends,  in  great  ceremiony,  to  Westminster ; 
and  there,  in  presence  of  the  lord-mayor  and  aldermen 
of  London,  the  two  commissioners  of  the  great  seal, 
the  two  councils  of  the  State  and  army,  was  declared, 
"  LORD-PROTECTOR  of  the  Commouwealth  of  England, 
Ireland,  and  Scotland ;"  and  took  the  oath.  It  was  an 
imposing  ceremony.  Cromwell  was  dressed  in  a  plain 
suit  of'-  black  velvet,  with  cloak  of  the  same  ;  and  about 
his  hat  a  broad  band  of  gold."  "Does  the  reader  see 
him  ?  A  rather  likely  figure,  I  think — stands  some  five 
feet  ten,  or  more — a  man  of  strong,  solid  stature,  dignified 
mien,  and  portly  military  carriage — the  expression  of  him, 


368  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

valor  and  devout  intelligence,  energ}^,  and  delicacy,  on 
a  basis  of  simplicity.  Fifty-four  years  old  gone  April 
last ;  brown  hair  and  moustaches  are  getting  grey.  A 
figure  of  sufficient  impressiveness — not  lovely  to  the 
man-milliner  species,  nor  pretending  to  be  so.  Massive 
stature — big,  massive  head,  of  somewhat  leonine  aspect 
— wart  above  the  right  eyebrow — nose  of  considerable 
blunt-aquiline  proportions — strict,  yet  copious  lips,  full 
of  all  tremulous  sensibilities,  and  also,  if  need  were, 
of  all  fierceness  and  rigor:  deep,  low^ering  eyes,  (call 
them  grave,  call  them  stern,)  looking  from  under  those 
craggy  brows,  as  if  in  life-long  sorrow,  and  yet,  not 
thinking  it  sorrow — thinking  it  only  labor  and  endeavor  : 
on  the  whole,  a  right,  noble,  lion-face  and  hero-face,  and 
to  me  royal  enough."* 

"  The  instrument  of  government,"  by  which  he  was 
to  be  guided,  contained  forty-two  articles,  and  was  read 
by  Lambert.  This  new  constitution  for  England,  pro- 
vided, first,  that  "  the  supreme  legislative  authority, 
should  be  in  one  person  and  the  people  in  parliament 
represented ;  and  that  person  be  Lord- Protector."  He 
was  to  be  assisted  by  a  council  of  State,  consisting  of 
not  more  than  twenty-one,  and  not  less  than  thirteen, 
persons.  He  was  to  have  control  of  all  the  land  and 
sea  forces,  grant  commissions,  bestow  honors,  &:c.,  &c 
He  could  not  repeal,  or.  alter  any  law,  without  tho 
sanction  of  parliament,  which  should  be  assembled  at 
least  once  in  three  years,  and  sit  five  months.  Thia 
parliament  was  to  be  composed  of  four  hundred  mem 

*  Vide  Carlyle,  vol.  ii.,  page  65. 


1653.]  THE     PROTECTORATE.  3G9 

bers ;  and  the  representation  to  be  proportioned  as  near 
as  possible  to  the  taxation.  Ireland  and  Scotland  were 
allowed,  each,  thirty.  It  was  to  assemble  September, 
1654;  and,  in  the  interim,  Cromwell  and  his  council 
were  to  govern  the  State.  When  the  result  was  an- 
nounced to  the  people,  shouts  of  "  Long  live  the  Pro- 
tector!" rent  the  air;  and  he  drove  back  in  great 
pomp  to  Whitehall. 

16* 


CHAPTER    XII. 


THE    PROTECTORATE. 


From  December,  1653,  to  the  Second  Protectorate  Parliament,  Sep- 
tember, 1657 — Ordinances  Issued  by  Cromwell — Henry  Cromwell 
goes  to  Ireland — Character  of  the  New  Government — Peace  Abroad 
— Respect  Shown  to  the  Protector — Sycophancy  of  Dr.  South — 
Assembling  of  Parliament — Its  Unjustifiable  and  Dangerous  Proceed- 
ings— Noble  Address  of  Cromwell — Submission  of  Parliament — Its 
Acts — Cromwell  Thrown  from  His  Carriage — Death  of  His  Mother 
— The  West  Indian  Expedition — Dissolution  of  Parliament — Crom- 
well's Arbitrary  Course — The  Major-Generals — Persecution  of  the 
Vaudois,  and  Noble  Interference  of  Cromwell — Milton — Cromwell 
Champion  of  Protestantism — Assembling  of  the  New  Parliament. 

Between  the  16th  of  December,  1653,  and  the  3d 
of  December,  1654,  when  the  new  parhament  was  to 
assemble,  Cromw^ell  and  his  council  had  permission  to 
pass  such  ordinances  as  they  might  deem  beneficiah 
and  they  made  free  use  of  it.  Sixty  were  issued — the 
most  important  of  w^hich,  in  relation  to  civil  matters, 
were  those  fixing  the  law  of  treason — arranging  the 
revenue — providing  for  the  union  of  the  two  kingdoms, 
Scotland  and  England — granting  grace  and  oblivion  to 
offenders — regulating  the  manner  of  choosing  the  Irish 
and  Scotch  members  for  the  new  parliament,  and  re- 
forming the  chancery. 

But,  there  were  two  affecting  the  church,  which 
ranked  still  higher — one,  appointing,  as  grand  commis- 


1654.]  PLOTS     AGAINST     HIS     LIFE.  371 

sioners,  thirty-eight,  to  try  public  preachers;  and  the 
other,  instituting  a  similar  commission  in  every  county, 
for  the  ejection  of  "  scandalous,  ignorant,  and  inefRcient 
ministers."  The  duties  of  the  latter  v^ere  distinctly 
marked  out ;  and  they  commenced  their  work  of  pur- 
gation in  a  way  that  evinced  the  purity  of  their  in- 
tentions. This  leading  measure  shows  the  drift  of 
Cromwell's  mind,  to  which  we  have  frequently  al- 
luded. 

But,  at  this  time,  he  was  treading  on  dangerous 
ground — he  had  before  incurred  the  hatred  of  both  Pres- 
byterians and  royalists;  and  now,  the  title  of  Lord-Pro- 
tector, drove  away  the  more  ardent  republicans  in  the 
Independent  party,  who,  hitherto,  had  clung  faithfully 
to  him.  Harrison,*  disappointed  and  angry,  would  not 
recognize  his  authority ;  and  was,  therefore,  stripped  of 
his  rank,  and  sent  into  the  country,  vvith  the  injunction 
to  be  quiet.  Anabaptists  and  levellers  conspiring  to- 
gether, were  arrested,  and  thrown  into  the  Tower; — 
the  command  of  the  troops  placed  in  the  hands  of  those 
whom  he  could  trust ;  while  Monk  was  sent  to  Scot- 
land, to  quell  the  republican  spirit  in  the  army  there. 
Henry  Cromwell  was  ordered  to  Ireland,  to  superintend 
matters  in  that  portion  of  the  realm,  and  immediately 
imparted  to  every  department  of  government  a  vigor 
to  which  it  had  long  been  a  stranger. 

The  royalists,  in  the  meantime,  laid  plots  to  murder 
the  Protector :  Charles,   II.,   from   his   secure   exile  in 

*  This  able,  but  visionary  officer,  has  been  sadly  belied  by  histo- 
rians. 


372  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Paris,  issued  a  proclamation,  offering  a  reward  of  £500 
per  annum,  a  colonel's  rank  in  the  army,  "  and  other  re- 
wards suitable,  to  any  one  who  w^ould  kill  a  certain  base 
mechanical  fellow,  by  name,  Oliver  Cromw^ell,  who  had, 
by  most  wdcked  and  accursed  means,  traitorously 
usurped  the  throne :"  but  every  attempt  proved  unsuc- 
cessful. The  assassins  were  seized  in  their  beds,  and 
their  plots  divulged;  for  Cromw^ell  had  his  spies  and 
friends  in  every  place.  He  comprehended  the  danger 
which  surrounded  him ;  and  stood  prepared  to  meet  it, 
in  w^hatever  shape  it  might  come.  On  the  very  morn- 
ing the  treaty  with  Portugal,  which  had  been  long 
under  contemplation,  was  closed,  the  head  of  the  am- 
bassador's brother,  w^ho  had  killed  an  Englishman  in 
the  streets,  rolled  on  the  scaffold.  In  this  stern  manner 
did  he  treat  his  enemies  both  at  home  and  abroad,  and 
gave  the  world  to  understand  what  kind  of  a  govern- 
ment he  designed  to  administer.  France,  frightened 
into  respect,  courted  his  favor.  Envoys  and  ambas- 
sadors from  almost  every  court  of  Europe,  flocked  to 
England ;  and  "  all  the  kings  of  the  earth  prostrated 
themselves  before  this  idol." 

His  family' — his  aged  mother,  and  beloved  daughters, 
(Lady  Claypole,  Mary,  and  Frances,)  were  now  removed 
to  Whitehall ;  and  the  Lord-Protector  had  a  household 
about  him  that  would  not  have  disgraced   any  king.* 

*"  Cromwell  had  nine  children — seven  of  whom,  three  sons  and  four 
daughters,  came  to  maturity.  Frances  was  the  youngest  daughter, 
and  it  was  said  that  Charles  II.  wished  to  marry  her,  in  order  to  re- 
cover his  dominions  ;  and  a  proposal  to  that  effect  was  made  to  Crom- 


1654.]  HIS     EULOGISTS.  373 

He  treated  foreign  ambassadors  like  an  emperor ;  and 
the  most  finished  courtiers  quailed  before  the  stern 
glance  of  his  eye.  The  perfect  ease  with  which  he 
assumed  his  lofty  station,  and  took  upon  himself  the 
cares  of  the  nation,  proves  him  to  have  possessed  a 
great  soul.  No  fear,  restlessness,  or  doubt,  agitated 
him — nay,  he  acted  as  if  he  at  last  had  found  the  place 
for  which  nature  had  designed  him.  He  surveyed  the 
disordered  kingdom  about  him,  and  the  strong  powers 
abroad,  who  had  hitherto  defied  the  Commonwealth,  as 
composedly  as  he  was  w^ont  to  view  a  battle-field ;  and 
laid  his  plans  with  a  skill  and  clearness,  and  pushed 
them  with  a  resolution  which  evince  not  only  the  states- 
man, but  the  great  ruler.  He  w^ould  treat  his  old  com- 
rades with  his  accustomed  familiarity ;  but  turned 
haughtily  to  meet  the  reverence  of  a  royal  ambassador. 
He  declared  he  would  make  the  name  of  Englishman 
as  great  abroad,  "  as  ever  that  of  a  Roman  had  been  /" 
and  he  kept  his  word.  He  forced  the  Dutch  into  a 
treaty  favorable  to  his  own  country,  the  consummation 
of  which  was  announced  by  the  firing  of  cannon,  trum- 
pets, bonfires,  and  illuminations.  The  tw^o  universities  of 
Cambridge  and  Oxford  vied  with  each  other  in  crowning 
him  with  laurels  ;  and  such  men  as  Doctors  Cudworth, 
Owen,   Zouch,  Bathurst,  Busby,  and  South,*  sung  his 

well,  who  rejected  it,  saying,  '  No,  it  is  impossible — he  would  never 
forgive  me  the  death  of  his  father.'  He  would  sooner  have  married 
her  to  the  meanest  of  his  ofRcers. 

*  To  illustrate  the  ficldeness  of  human  praise,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
show  how  little  trust  can  be  placed  in  the  testimony  of  even  dis- 
tinguished men,  who,  in  the  restoration,  sought  the  favor  of  court,  we 


374  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

praise  in  Latin  verse;  and  last  of  all,  Milton  addressed 
him  in  noble  prose.  Denmark  and  Sweden  also  sought 
his  alliance  ;  and,  at  peace  with  the  world,  and  honored 
at  home,  he,  at  once,  placed  England  in  the  front  rank  of 
nations,  and  started  her  on  that  glorious  career  she  has 
since  run. 

Thus  passed  the  months  between  his  elevation  and 
the   meeting  of   parliament  on  the  3d  of  September, 

give  the  following  extracts  from  Dr.  South's  eulogistic  poem  on  the 
Protector,  and  not  eulogistic  sermon  delivered  before  Charles  II.  To 
the  Lord-Protector,  he  wrote  : 

"  Tu  dux  pariter  terrss  domitorq  ;  profundi, 
Componant  laudes  cuncta  elementa  tuas, 
Cui  mens  alta  subest,  pelagoq  ;  profundior  ipso 
Cujus  fama  sonat,  quam  procul  unda  sonat. 
*  *  *  * 

Tu  poteras  solus  motos  componere  fiuctus, 
Solus  Neptunum  sub  tua  vincla  dare." 

And  yet,  this  Cromwell,  who  was  both  "  king  and  conqueror  of  the 
elements,"  "  whose  fame  sounded  far  as  the  waves  roared,"  and 
"  who  alone  was  able  to  control  the  sea,  and  put  Neptune  in  chains," 
Dr.  South  afterwards,  when  preaching  before  Charles  II.,  called  a 
"  beggarly  fellow.''^  "  Who,"  said  that  zealous  candidate  for  a  bishop* 
rick,  "  that  had  beheld  such  a  bankrupt^  beggarly  fellow  as  Crom- 
well, first  entering  the  Parliament  House,  with  a  threadbare,  torn 
toat,  and  a  greasy  hat  {and,  perhaps,  neither  of  them  paid  for),  could 
have  suspected  that,  in  the  course  of  a  few  years,  he  should,  by  the 
murder  of  one  king,  and  the  banishment  of  another,  ascend  the  throne, 
be  invested  in  the  royal  robes,  and  w^ant  nothing  of  the  state  of  a  king, 
but  the  changing  of  his  hat  inta  a  crown  ?"  "  Odds  fish,  Lory!"  ex- 
claimed the  laughing  Charles,  when  he  heard  this  from  the  divine, 
who  hat  panegyrized  the  living  Lord-Protector — "  Odds  fish,  man  ! 
your  chaplain  must  be  a  bishop.  Put  me  in  mind  of  him  at  the  next 
vacancy."  Oh,  glorious  times  for  the  church  !  Oh,  golden  age  for  the 
profligate  and  the  slave  !"-Vido  Forster's  British  Statesmen,  page  406, 


1654.]  MEETING     OF     PARLIAMENT.  875 

1654.  The  eventful  day  at  length  arrived,  and  more 
than  three  hundi^d  assembled  in  the  abbey  of  West- 
minster, and  from  thence  proceeded  to  the  House  of 
Commons,  where  a  message  met  them  requesting  their 
presence  in  the  painted  chamber.  Thither  they  went, 
and,  having  assembled,  were  told  by  his  highness,  stand- 
ing uncovered  on  a  pedestal,  that,  it  being  Sunday,  he 
could  not  then  address  them,  but  would  meet  them 
next  morning  in  the  abbey-church  of  Westminster. 

That  night,  Cromwell  must  have  felt  some  anxiety,  as 
he  thought  of  Haselrig,  Scott,  and  others,  whose  faces 
had  glowered  on  him  from  that  assembly. 

At  ten  o'clock,  next  morning,  however,  he  proceeded 
in  great  state  to  the  church,  where  a  sermon  was  to  be 
delivered.  Two  troops  of  Life  Guards  marched  in 
front,  and  a  large  procession  of  officers  and  gentlemen 
on  horseback,  richly  apparelled  but  bare-headed,  suc- 
ceeded—followed by  pages  and  lackeys  of  the  Protector, 
in  rich  liveries,  who  walked  just  in  front  of  the  State 
carriage.  But  all  eyes  were  turned  on  Cromwell,  as  he 
approached — with  Lambert  in  gorgeous  costume,  sitting 
by  his  side — dressed  in  a  simple  black  suit,  without 
ornament  or  show— "  like  a  plain  country  gentle- 
man." 

After  service,  he  proceeded  to  the  painted  chamber, 
and  opened  parliament  with  a  long  speech.  He  com- 
menced by  reminding  them  of  the  great  trusts  committed 
to  their  charge — ^referred  to  the  past,  and  spoke  of  both 
the  outward  and  spiritual  condition  of  the  people — ^re- 
buked the  Presbyterians,  for  fettering  the  consciences  of 


376  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

men — enlarged  against  the  Fifth  Monarchy  doctrine,  and 
dwelt  long  on  foreign  affairs.  He  ^hen  went  on  to 
enumerate  some  of  the  reforms  that  had  been  made, 
and  concluded  with  an  urgent  exhortation  to  act  wisely 
and  harmoniously,  "to  which  end  they  would  have 
his  prayers." 

The  parliament  chose  Lenthall  their  Speaker,  and  ap- 
pointed a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer.  This  election 
was  hotly  contested,  and  foretold  much  trouble  ahead. 

Many  clear-headed  statesmen  were  in  this  body — 
some  of  whom  had  been  members  of  the  Long  Parlia- 
ment, and  still  smarted  under  the  disgrace  of  their 
former  ejection  by  Cromwell's  pikes. 

The  first  question  started  by  them  was,  "  whether 
the  House  should  acknowledge  the  government  to  be 
in  the  parhament  and  Single  Person."  This  was 
discussed  in  committee  of  the  whole,  and  the  debate 
waxed  fierce  and  high— lasting  twelve  hours.  For  four 
successive  days  a  violent  struggle  was  maintained  by 
the  two  parties,  without  coming  to  a  decision.  Judge 
Matthew  Hale  went  down  to  effect  a  compromise,  to 
w^hich  parliament  agreed ;  but  Cromwell  hurled  it  from 
him  with  scorn,  and  sending  for  the  Lord  Mayor, 
ordered  the  Hall  to  be  closed,  and  troops  to  be 
stationed  in  various  places  in  the  city.  By  eight 
o'clock  on  the  twelfth  day  of  September,  all  was 
accomplished ;  and  when  the  members,  one  after  another, 
arrived  at  the  House,  they  were  forbidden  to  enter  and 
were  informed  that  the  Protector  would  meet  them  in 
the  painted  chamber. 


1654.]  HIS   SPEECH.  377 


CROMWELL  S    SPEECH. 

Thither  they  repaired,  and  walked  about  in  groups, 
discoursing  on  this  sudden  movement,  until  the  Lord- 
Protector  arrived.  The  two  Houses  at  length  being 
assembled  and  called  to  order,  he  arose  and  ad- 
dressed them,  in  a  speech — the  most  remarkable,  per- 
haps, that  ever  fell  from  his  lips.  His  strong  nature 
was  thoroughly  aroused,  and  he  launched,  at  once, 
into  the  question.  He  v\^as  not,  as  formerly,  the 
Christian  brother  talking  with  them  as  friend  wdth 
friend ;  nor  the  slumberous  elephantine  orator,  rolling 
heavily  on  his  way;  but  the  Numidian  lion,  roused 
from  his  lair,  and  with  flashing  eyes  confronting  his 
presumptuous  foes.  "  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  it  is  not 
long  since  I  met  you  in  this  place,  upon  an  occasion 
which  gave  much  more  content  and  comfort  than  this 
doth.  That  which  I  have  to  say  to  you  now  needs  no 
preamble  to  let  me  into  my  discourse ;  for  the  occasion 
of  this  meeting  is  plain  enough.  I  could  have  wished, 
with  all  my  heart,  there  had  been  no  cause  for  it.  -At 
that  meeting,  I  acquainted  you  what  the  first  rise  was 
of  this  government,  which  hath  called  you  hither,  on 
the  authority  of  which  you  come  hither.  Among  other 
things  I  told  you  of  then,  I  said  you  were  a  free  parlia- 
ment, and  so  you  are  while  you  oion  the  government  and 
authority  that  called  you  hither,  for  certainly  that  word 
implied  a  reciprocation  or  implied  nothing  at  all. 

He  then  called  God  to  witness  that  he  had  not  put  him- 


37  S  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

self  in  the  place  he  occupied,  but  God  and  the  people ;  and 
continued  he,  with  sudden  vehemence,  "  If  my  calling 
be  from  God,  and  my  testimony  from  the  people,  God, 
and  the  people  shall  take  it  from  me,  else  I  will  not  part 
with  it''  Subsiding  from  his  high  tone  and  passionate 
manner,  he  reviewed  the  past ;  declaring  that  after  the 
battle  of  Worcester,  he  again  and  again  solicited  to  be 
discharged  from  public  duties,  that  he  might  retire  to 
private  life ;  and  on  being  refused,  had  urged,  as  a  mem- 
ber of  parliament,  that  they  should  fix,  for  the  welfare  of 
the  Common w^ealth,  a  limit  to  their  sittings.  Failing  in 
this,  he  broke  them  up ;  and  so  content  were  the  people 
with  the  measure,  that  when  they  went,  "  there  was  not 
so  much  as  the  harking  of  a  dog,  or  any  general  or 
visible  repining  at  it."  He  then  spoke  of  the  Little 
Parliament  w^iich  he  called  together,  for  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  surrendering  his  power  into  their  hands — and 
declared  that  their  resignation  w^as  utterly  unknown  to 
him  till  accomplished.  His  hopes  being  thus  defeated, 
he  was  induced,  by  the  urgent  appeals  of  others,  to  take 
upon  himself  the  title  of  Lord-Protector  :  and  an  instru- 
ment placing  the  government  in  him  and  parliament,  was 
adopted  "  in  presence  of  the  Commissioners  of  the  Great 
Seal,  Lord  Mayor,  and  Aldermen  of  London,  soldiers, 
gentlemen,  and  citizens"' — nay,  before  all  the  world,  and 
acknowledged  by  it,  as  w^ell  as  the  three  kingdoms  of 
England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland.  Judges,  and  magis- 
trates, and  sheriffs,  by  taking  their  commissions  from 
him,  had  recognized  the  constitutionality  of  the  act.  He 
then  asked  them  if  they  had  not  come  hither  as  members 


1654.]  CLOSE     OF     HIS     SPEECH.  379 

of  parliament,  on  writs  issued  by  himself  to  the  sheriffs 
of  the  different  counties ;  and  if  the  act  of  government 
was  not  read  at  the  place  of  election,  so  that  there  could 
be  no  misunderstanding;  and  if  the  people  had  not  signed 
an  indenture,  with  proviso  that  the  persons  so  chosen 
should  not  have  the  power  to  alter  the  government,  as 
now  settled  in  one  single  person  and  a  parliament." 

"  Thus,"  said  he,  I  have  made  good  my  second  asser- 
tion, that  I  bear  not  witness  to  myself,  hut  that  the  good 
people  of  England  and  you  all  are  my  witnesses."  The 
constitutionahty  of  the  government  was  plain  ;  God 
and  the  people  were  the  authority  it  claimed ; — could 
Charles  Stuart  show  a  higher  ?  There  were  a  hundred 
battle-fields,  on  which  God  had  been  the  arbiter ;  and 
there  were  the  people  with  the  indenture  in  their  hands  ; 
and  here  are  "  you^''  members  of  parliament,  by  your 
acknowledgment  of  my  summons,  witnesses  of  the 
legality  of  my  Protectorate."  Thus  he  went  on,  telling 
them  that  now  to  disown  the  authority  by  which  they 
sat,  was  contrary  to  all  right,  and  Derilled  deeply  the 
welfare  of  the  nation. 

He  then  touched  upon  the  perpetuity  of  parliaments, 
liberty  of  conscience,  the  militia,  finances  ;  and  wound 
up  that  part  of  his  address  by  one  of  those  sudden 
explosions  so  terrible  to  the  beholder,  and  seldom 
witnessed  except  in  the  shock  of  battle.  With  his  eyes 
flashing  fire,  and  his  rough  voice  pitched  to  its  battle 
key,  and  rolling  like  heavy  thunder  through  the  cham- 
ber, he  exclaimed :  "  And  now,  the  wilful  throwing 
away  of  this  government,  such  as  it  is — so  owned  of  God 


o80  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

— SO  witnessed  to — so  necessary  to  the  welfare  of  this 
nation  and  posterity — /  will  sooner  be  rolled  into 
MY  GRAVE  AND  BURIED  WITH  INFAMY,  than  give  my  con- 
sent  to  it."  He  was  no  longer  the  Puritan  exhorter,  or 
composed  statesman,  but  the  hero  of  Naseby,  Marston 
Moor,  Dunbar,  and  Worcester — the  daring  chieftain 
charging  into  the  breach  of  Drogheda.  Those  who  had 
never  seen  him  in  the  midst  of  battle,  had  now  a  fair  op- 
portunity of  witnessing  the  look  and  bearing  so  often 
spoken  of  as  appalling  and  fearful.  On  every  linea- 
ment of  his  massive  features  was  written  his  unalterable 
determination  ;  and  as  he  bent  his  shaggy  brows  on 
the  breathless  and  startled  parliament,  his  whole  aspect 
said,  in  language  not  to  be  misunderstood,  "  If  you  now 
close  with  me,  it  will  be  in  a  mortal  struggle."  No 
temporizing  Charles  I.  stood  there,  trembling  before  the 
storm  he  had  raised;  but  one  in  whose  bosom  was  a 
wilder  storm  than  they  had  ever  dreamed  of  It  was  a 
sublime  spectacle — that  single  plebeian,  standing  in  pres- 
ence of  three  hundred  of  the  choicest  men  of  England, 
and  awing  them  by  his  more  than  imperial  frown  into 
silence  and  submission. 

He  closed  this  extraordinary  speech  by  telling  them 
it  would  have  been  full  as  honorable,  had  they  recog- 
nized the  authority  wiiich  called  them  together,  instead 
of  treating  it,  as  they  had,,  with  studied  neglect,  and  then 
open  defiance ;  and  added — "  Seeing  the  authority  which 
called  you  is  so  little  valued,  and  so  much  slighted — till 
some  assurance  is  given  and  made  known,  that  the 
fundamental   interest    shall  he   settled  and  approved, 


1G54.]  CLOSE     OF    HIS     SPEECH.  381 

according  to  the  provisions  in  the  writ  of  Return,  and 
such  a  consent  testified  as  will  make  it  appear  that  the 
same  is  accepted,  I  have  caused  a  stop  to  be  put  to  your 
entrance  into  the  Parliament  House.'' 

"  /  am  sorry — /  am  sorry,"  he  exclaimed,  as  his  feel- 
ings once  more  gained  the  mastery,  "  /  could  he  sorry  to 
the  death,  that  there  is  cause  for  this.  But  there  is 
cause;  and  if  things  be  not  satisfied,  which  are  rea- 
sonably demanded,  /,  for  my  part,  will  do  that  which 
becomes  me,  seeking  counsel  from  God.''  If  he  can't 
have  a  reasonable  parliament,  he  will  fall  back  on 
God,  and  his  conscience,  and  take  counsel  from  them 
alone.  "But,"  he  tells  them  in  conclusion,  there  is  a 
^' thing'  they  "will  find  in  the  lobby  of  the  House," 
the  signing  of  which,  will  settle  the  matter  between 
them. 

The  House  then  adjourned  in  confusion  ;  and  repair- 
ing to  the  Parliament  House,  found  a  parchment  in  the 
lobby,  with  an  officer  standing  by  to  take  signatures  to 
it,  which  contained  the  following  significant  sentence : 
"  I  do  hereby  freely  promise  and.  engage  myself  to  be 
true  and  faithful  to  the  Lord-Protector,  and  the  Com 
monwealth  of  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland,  and  shah 
not  {according  to  the  tenor  of  the  indenture  whereby  I 
am  returned  to  serve  in  this  present  parliament)  propose 
or  give  my  consent  to  alter  the  government,  as  it  is 
settled  in  a  single  person  and  a  parliament."  Lenthall 
signed  first,  followed  by  about  a  hundred  others  ;  Brad- 
shaw,  Haselrig,  Scot,  and  others,  refused — muttering 
deep  indignation  against  the  Protector. 


382  OLIVER     CRO.MWELL. 

Gradually,  most  of  the  remainder  came  in,  so  that  at 
the  end  of  a  month  three  hundred  had  taken  the  pledge, 
and  the  labors  of  parliament  were  resumed. 

We  will  not  stop  here  to  defend  this  other  arbitrary 
act  of  Cromwell ;  but  say  simply,  in  our  opinion,  if  he 
had  acted  differently  he  would  have  been  utterly  un- 
worth}'  of  the  place  he  occupied.  Here  was  a  govern- 
ment well  established,  v*'hich  had  secured  peace  and 
honor  abroad,  and  respect  and  confidence  at  home,  on 
whose  strength^ and  integrity  all  relied,  suddenly  assailed 
by  members  of  parliament,  who  could  have  no  other 
motive  for  their  reckless  attack  than  the  gratification 
of  personal  malice  and  hate.  They  had  the  dishonesty 
to  acknowledge  the  authority  of  Cromwell  by  assembling 
at  his  call,  and  then  deny  it  after  having  come  together. 
They  were  not  only  guilty  of  this  inconsistency,  but 
violated  their  solemn  pledge,  given  to  their  constituents, 
without  which  they  would  not  have  been  returned. 
They  were  false  alike  to  the  Protector,  their  oath,  and 
the  people  who  sent  them.  As  this  treachery  on  their 
part  struck  at  no  less  than  the  peace  of  the  three  king- 
doms, and  threatened  to  involve  them  again  in  war  and 
bloodshed,  Cromwell  would  have  been  false  to  the  pro- 
mise he  had  given,  if  he  had  allowed  them  to  go  on  and 
perfect  the  work  of  ruin  in  their  blind  passion.  His 
act  is  called  arbitrary,  and  compared  to  similar  ones 
in  the  history  of  Charles  I. ;  but  the  resemblance  is  in 
form  only.  Charles  attempted  by  force  to  make  the 
representatives  of  the  people  prove  recreant  to  their 
pledges,  their  duty,  and  the  constitution   of  England  • 


'it|1654.]         THROWN     FROM     HIS    CARRIAGE.  383 

Cromwell  used  his  power  to  make  them  keep  their 
oath,  and  not  betray  the  country  they  represented. 
Is  there  no  difference  then  between  their  acts  ?  Parha- 
ment  undertook  to  subvert  the  government  they  had 
sworn  to  uphold,  for,  at  least,  one  year,  and  Cromwell, 
very  properly  and  very  emphatically,  told  them,  he 
would  sooner  be  rolled  into  his  grave,  and  buried  with 
infamy,  than  allow  it  to  be  done. 

Previous  to  the  resumption  of  business,  an  occurrence 
took  place  which  caused  much  talk;  and  well  nigh 
changed  the  destiny  of  England.  On  the  20th  of  Sep- 
tember, the  Protector  took  it  into  his  head  to  have  a 
lunch  in  Hyde  Park,  under  the  trees,  with  his  secretary, 
Thurloe,  and  a  few  other  gentlemen.  He  had  previous- 
ly taken  a  drive,  in  a  coach  drawn  by  six  beautiful  grey 
Friesland  horses,  the  present  of  the  Duke  of  Oldenburgh. 
After  the  repast,  he  proposed  to  drive  this  tiery  team 
himself,  and  so  his  Highness  mounted  the  box,  and 
started  off.  For  awhile,  he  managed  very  well;  but 
rousing  the  mettle  of  the  high-blooded  animals  too  far 
by  the  whip,  they,  at  length,  broke  from  his  control, 
and  dashed  fiercely  away.  Cromwell  was  hurled  from 
the  box,  and  struck  upon  the  pole,  where  he  maintained 
his  balance  for  some  time ;  but  at  length  he  fell,  and,  his 
feet  catching  in  the  harness,  was  dragged  violently  over 
the  gravelly  path.  But  his  shoe  coming  off,  he  was  re- 
leased from  his  perilous  position,  and  left  on  the  ground. 
In  the  struggle  and  concussion,  a  pistol  went  off  in  his 
pocket,  which  was  the  occasion  of  many  rumors  :  one 
thing,  however,  was  evident ;  that  his  Highness  was  a 


384  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

soldier  yet,  and  ready  at  any  moment  to  fire  a  pistol  in 
an  assassin's  face — a  fact,  doubtless,  well  considered  by 
many  who  were  plotting  against  his  life. 

The  next  month,  November  16th,  his  aged  mother, 
ninety-four  years  old,  died.  For  a  long  time  she 
had  lived  in  perpetual  alarm,  lest  the  life  of  her  son 
should  be  taken.  Assassins  haunted  her  declining  days, 
and  she  was  distressed  if  she  did  not  see  him,  at  least, 
once  a  day.  When  she  saw"  death  approaching,  she 
sent  for  him,  and,  in  tremulous  accents,  gave  him  her 
last  benediction  ;  "  The  Lord  cause  His  face  to  shine 
upon  you,"  said  she ;  "  and  comfort  you  in  all  your  adver- 
sities ;  and  enable  you  to  do  great  things  for  the  glory  of 
the  Most  High  God,  and  to  be  a  relief  to  His  people. 
My  dear  son,  Heave  my  heart  with  thee.  Good  Night!" 
and  closing  her  eyes,  she  breathed  forth  her  spirit  to  the 
God  who  gave  it.  Cromwell  gazed  a  moment  on  her 
pallid  features,  and  then  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 
What  a  picture  does  he,  the  Lord-Protector  of  England 
— the  hero  of  so  many  battle-fields — the  resolute,  iron- 
willed  man,  present,  weeping  beside  his  aged  mother. 
The  whole  scene  reminds  one  of  the  parting  interview 
between  Washington  and  his  venerable  parent,  at 
Fredericksburgh.  * 

The  proceedings  oC  this  parliament  are  hardly  worth 
recording.     It  first  voted,  that    signing  the  pledge  re- 

*  She  said  to  him,  "Go  George,  fulfil  the  high  destinies  which 
heaven  appears  to  assign  you ;  go,  my  son,  and  may  heaven's  and  your 
mother's  blessing  be  with  you  always."  Washington,  overcome  by  her 
words,  leaned  his  head  on  her  aged  shoulder  and  wept. 


1654.]  WEST     INDIA     EXPEDITION.  385 

quired  by  Cromwell  did  not  bind  them  to  the  whole 
instrument  of  government ;  and  soon  after,  in  a  ridicu- 
lous affectation  of  independence,  resolved  that  no  one 
should  be  returned  to  that  parliament  without  re- 
cognizing the  government.  They  discussed  also  the 
Protectorate ;  whether  it  should  be  hereditary,  or  not ; 
and  voted  that  no  one  should  be  tolerated,  who  did  not 
subscribe  to  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  Christianity, 
which  by  committee  were  decided  to  exclude  Deists, 
Socinians,  Papists,  Arians,  Antinomians,  Quakers,  &c. 
Thus  the  parliament  showed  itself  as  bigoted  as  it  was 
refractory.  Meddling  with  everything  which  did  not 
concern  it ;  and  touching  nothing  which  the  wants 
of  the  State  demanded ; — finding  fault  with  taxes  abso- 
lutely indispensable  to  meet  the  current  expenditures  ; 
and  refusing  supplies,  without  which  government  could 
not  be  carried  on ;  it  unsettled  rather  than  quieted  the 
affairs  of  the  nation. 

A  large  armament  was  fitted  out  at  this  time,  under 
Generals  Venables  and  Penn,  who  were  not  to  open  their 
orders  till  they  arrived  at  a  certain  latitude.  Their 
destination  was  the  West  India  islands,  where  they  were 
to  intercept  the  Spanish  plate  fleet,  and  to  conquer 
Jamaica. 

About  this  time,  also,  symptoms  of  discontent  showed 
themselves  in  the  army  of  Scotland,  to  which  between 
two  and  three  months'  pay  was  due.  The  insurgents 
talked  of  deposing  Monk,  and  appointing  Overton  com- 
mander ;  and  then  march  into  England  and  demand  re- 
dress. The  plottings  of  royalists  were  also  felt  in  other 
17 


386  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

parts  of  the  kingdom ;  but  the  ever-vigilant  eye  and  sud- 
den stroke  of  Cromwell  rendered  every  attempt  power- 
less. Overton,  and  Ludlow,  and  Harrison,  and  Alured, 
at  length  became  involved  in  disgrace. 

On  the  22d  of  January,  1655,  this  troublesome  par- 
liament received  a  summons  to  attend  his  Highness  in 
the  painted  chamber,  where,  after  a  long  speech  and  a 
sharp  reprimand,  he  concluded,  "  I  think  it  my  duty  to 
tell  you  that  it  is  not  for  the  profit  of  these  nations,  not 
for  the  common  and  public  good  for  you  to  continue 
here  any  longer.  And,  therefore,  /  do  declare  unto  you, 
that  I  do  dissolve  tins  parliament." 

Thus  ended  the  first  Protectorate  parliament,  much  to 
their  own  astonishment ;  for  they  did  not  expect  a  disso- 
lution until  the  five  months  specified  by  law^  had  expired ; 
and  on  this  ground  remonstrated.  But  Cromwell  told 
them  they  had  sat  five  calendar  months,  which  w^as  the 
way  time  w^as  reckoned  in  the  army ;  and  they  departed, 
each  to  his  home. 

Oliver  was  now  absolute  monarch  ;  and  although  his 
dissolution  of  parliament  was  legal,  it  is  evident  he 
was  willing  to  stretch  a  point  to  get  rid  of  it.  Forced, 
•step  by  step,  from  the  broad  platform  of  liberty 
on  which  he  had  first  planted  his  feet — goaded  on 
to  the  assumption  of  supreme  power — he  seems  like 
one  whom  an  invisible  fate  is  incessantly  pushing 
forward  against  his  own  wishes.  Afraid  to  trench 
on  the  liberties  of  the  people ;  still  more  afraid  to 
let  narrow  sectarians,  or  pseudo-statesmen,  ruin  the 
the  kingdom ;  he  struggles  on,  hoping  the  next  movement 


1655.]  HIS     ARBITRARY     COURSE.  387 

will  show  that  honesty  and  wisdom  have  at  last  met. 
From  the  moment  he  dissolved  parliament,  he  knew 
that  Presbyterians,  republicans,  and  royalists,  would 
all  conspire  against  him,  and  his  future  life  must  be 
one  stern  battle.  He  could  no  longer  rely  on  the  virtue 
of  men ;  he  must,  therefore,  fall  back  on  his  power. 

Here  commences  the  worst  part  of  his  cai^eer.  Com- 
pelled to  play  the  despot,  he  did  it  effectually,  and  held 
the  three  kingdoms  with  a  grasp  of  iron.  Knowing 
that  moderate  measures  would  not  answer,  he  set  about 
his  plans  with  a  grimness  and  savageness  that  remind 
us  of  his  Irish  campaign.  He  first  issued  an  ordinance 
in  his  own  name,  for  the  payment  of  old  rates  and 
taxes — a  method  somewhat  after  Charles  I. — in  order  to 
supply  present  necessities. 

But,  while  maturing  his  system  of  arbitrary  rule, 
an  insurrectionary  plot  was  discovered,  of  which  Major 
Wildman,  an  Anabaptist,  was  chief  Its  ramifications 
were  extensive  and  dangerous ;  but  its  timely  discovery, 
and  the  arrest  and  imprisonment  of  Wildman,  pre- 
vented any  bad  result.  A  month  after,  (March  11th,) 
there  was  a  sudden  rising  of  royalists  in  the  city  of 
Salisbury ;  and  about  two  hundred  men,  with  Sir 
Joseph  Wagstaff,  a  royalist  colonel,  and  Penruddock,  a 
wealthy  gentleman,  at  their  head,  seized  the  judges  and 
the  high-sheriff — it  being  assize  time — and  threatened 
to  hang  them.  Proclaiming  Charles  II.  king,  they,  after 
an  ineffectual  attempt  to  bring  the  city  over,  left  in 
haste  for  CornwaH;  but  were  overtaken  by  one  of 
Cromwell's   troops,   and   dispersed.      Penruddock   and 


388  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Grove  were  taken,  seized,  and  beheaded ;  while  the  rest 
of  the  prisoners,  or  most  of  them,  were  sent  as  slaves  to 
Barbadoes,  where  Oliver,  for  years,  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  despatching  unruly  subjects  from  the  three  kingdoms. 

To  meet  all  these  conspiracies,  control  the  hatred 
and  enmity  of  royalists,  Presbyterians,  and  fierce  repub- 
licans, raise  money,  and  sustain  his  foreign  policy, 
demanded  all  the  strength  of  character  and  sagacity 
which  he  possessed.  A  police  system,  never  before 
equalled,  w^as  immediately  established :  Thurloe,  Crom- 
well's secretary,  had  his  spies  in  every  regiment  and 
town ;  and  immense  sums  w^ere  annually  expended 
to  perfect  and  carry  it  out.  To  mark  his  enemies 
as  distinctly  as  possible,  he  forbid  all  Episcopal 
clergymen,  who  had  been  deprived  of  their  living, 
to  teach  schools,  or  instruct  classes,  or  preach,  or  use 
the  church  service  in  public  or  private,  (a  measure 
borrowed  from  Laud,) — ^banislied  all  ca,valiers  and  Catho- 
lics twenty  miles  from  London,  and  Catholic  priests  the 
kingdom.  He  established  a  strict  censorship  of  the 
press — imprisoned  many  of  the  nobility,  until  they  could 
give  bail  for  their  good  behavior ; — and  thus,  wrapping 
himself  in  his  power,  bade  defiance  to  his  enemies.  He 
had  at  last  drawn  the  sword,  and  thrown  away  the  scab- 
bard— resolved,  since  he  could  not  conciliate,  to  over- 
awe. 

But  money  w^as  needed  for  his  troops,  and  for  the 
expenditures  of  government ;  and  so  he  issued  an 
ordinance  decimating  all  w^ho  had  openly  declared  for 
the  king — that  is,  compelled  them  to  give  a  tenth  of 


1655.]  THE     MAJOR     GENERALS  389 

their  entire  income  to  the  State.  He  next  divided 
England  and  Wales  into  twelve  districts,  over  each  of 
which  he  appointed  a  major-general  to  command  the 
militia.  The  latter  sub-divided  into  companies  and 
troops,  were  quartered  in  the  towns  supposed  to  be  the 
most  disaffected ;  and  a  military  despotism,  as  terrible 
in  principle,  if  not  in  practice,  as  was  ever  invented, 
w^as  fastened  on  England.  These  major-generals  had 
almost  unlimited  powers ;  and  from  their  conduct  there 
was  no  appeal  to  a  court  of  law — the  Protector  alone 
could  right  the  WTonged.  To  suppress  tumults,  fer- 
ret out,  and  disarm  conspirators,  see  that  the  ordinance 
respecting  disaffected  and  scandalous  ministers,  was 
obeyed — the  law  against  drunkenness,  profane  sw^ear- 
ing,  and  gambling,  enforced,  and  to  suppress  horse 
racing,  cock-fighting,  theatres,  &c.,  were  some  of  the 
public  duties  they  were  required  to  perform,  while  they 
received  secret  instructions  to  assist  in  carrying  out  the 
decimation  of  the  royalists.  Fleetw^ood,  whom  Oliver's 
son  Henry  had  succeeded  in  Ireland;  Desborough, 
Lambert,  Whalley,  Goffe,  Skippon,  and  others,  were 
the  officers  appointed  to  this  service.  The  only 
apology  that  can  be  made  for  this  despotic  course  is, 
that  it  was  the  result  of  necessity,  not  love  of  powder. 
He,  himself,  in  speaking  of  the  appointment  of  major- 
generals,  afterwards,  says,  "  But,  if  nothing  should  ever 
be  done  but  what  is  according  to  law,  the  throat  of  the 
nation  may  be  cut  wiiile  we  send  for  some  to  make  a 
law.  Therefore,  it  is  a  pitiful,  beastly  notion,  to  think, 
though  it  be  for  ordinary  government,  to  live  by  law 


390  OLIVER      CROMWELL. 

and  rule;  yet,  if  a  government,  in  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstances, go  beyond  the  law,  even  for  self-preser- 
vation, it  is  to  be  clamored  at  and  blotted  at."  He 
openly  declared  to  parliament,  that  nothing  else  would 
have  answered  against  royalist  plots ;  and  so  satisfied 
was  he  of  the  necessity  and  good  effect  of  the  measure, 
that  "if  he  had  the  same  thing  to  do  over  again,  he 
ivould  do  it. 

We  are  bound  to  believe  his  solemn  asseverations, 
in  which  he  calls  God  to  witness  that  he  had  not  sought 
the  power  with  w^hich  he  had  been  invested.  "  I  have 
learned  too  much  of  God,"  says  he,  "  to  dally  with  Him, 
and  to  be  bold  wdth  Him  in  these  things.  I  dare  not 
be  bold  with  Him,  though  I  can  be  bold  with  men.'* 
But  being  invested  with  this  power,  he  endeavored  first 
to  surrender  it  to  the  Little  Parliament ;  and  failing,  re- 
ceived the  title  of  Protector,  and  called  a  parliament 
to  co-operate  wdth  him.  Forced  by  their  dishonest 
actions,  either  to  abandon  the  settlement  of  the  nation, 
which  had  been  obtained  wath  so  much  effort,  or  dis- 
perse them,  he  chose  the  latter  course.  Having,  by 
this  act,  separated  himself  from  all  conciliation,  he  had 
either  to  crush  his  enemies,  or  be  crushed.  There  was 
no  compromise,  and  he  knew^  it.  He  must  choose  to 
be  a  despot,  or  surrender  England  to  anarchy — thei^e  was 
no  other  course  left  him. 

In  the  second  place,  his  tyranny  was  not  exerted  for 
base  purposes,  to  enrich  himself  or  feed  his  lusts ;  but, 
for  the  welfare  of  his  country,  and  the  protection  of  reli- 
gion.    The  instruments  he  selected  were  not  slaves,  nor 


1655.]  REASONS     OF     HIS     CONDUCT.  391 

unprincipled  courtiers ;  but  men  of  integrity  and  con- 
science. In  the  third  place,  his  severity  towards  the  roy- 
alists and  Episcopalians,  was  not  the  result  of  bigotry,  as 
in  the  case  of  Laud,  but  to  save  himself  and  the  gov- 
ernment. It  was  not  with  opposing  views  and  senti- 
ments that  he  waged  war,  but  against  assassins'  knives, 
and  bloody  plots.  His  tyranny  was  adopted  as  a  hedge 
to  the  government,  and  did  not  grow  out  of  his  love  of 
power;  for,  while  he  was  as  severe  as  doom  to  those  who 
plotted  against  its  interests,  he  was  magnanimous  to  his 
personal  enemies,  and  forgave  many  a  bloody  attempt 
on  his  hfe.  The  difference  between  a  despotism  which 
is  based  on  personal  considerations,  and  is  reckless  of 
the  common  good,  and  that  used  as  a  defence  against 
anarchy  and  evils  worse  than  despotism,  is  all  the  dif- 
ference between  Charles  I.  and  Oliver  CromwelL  This 
judging  by  the  act  alone,  and  not  by  the  spirit  which 
prompted  it,  or  the  object  to  be  secured,  is  the  great 
and  radical  error  the  historians  of  both  have  fallen  into. 
Thus,  while  we  pronounce  his  whole  conduct,  during 
this  period,  as  arbitrary  in  the  extreme,  and  wrong, 
we  look  in  vain  for  any  other  safe  course  which  he 
could  have  pursued.  We  have  never  yet  seen  one 
pointed  out  by  his  enemies.  Necessity,  as  he  said,  knows 
no  law ;  and  he  felt  the  truth  of  the  maxim  deeply. 

The  military  despotism  estabhshed  through  the 
Major-Generals,  was  probably,  from  the  character  of 
the  officers,  the  most  just  in  its  action  that  ever  was 
organized.  Yet  in  carrying  out  the  details  by  subordi- 
nates,  much   wrong    and    oppression    were    suffered. 


392  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Among  instances  of  these,  we  notice  the  arrest  of  the 
poet  Cleveland ;  and  the  imprisonment  of  Jeremy  Tay- 
lor, for  his  strong  Episcopal  notions. 

While  these  internal  regulations  were  being  enforced, 
external  affairs  were  prosperous.  Scotland,  though 
heavily  taxed  to  support  the  army  and  government,  and 
now  and  then  showing  symptoms  of  discontent  in  the 
Highlands,  prospered  as  it  had  not  done  before  for  years. 
Religion  flourished — the  law^s  were  respected,  and  the 
people  content  under  the  Protectorate.  Henry  Crom- 
well, as  Lord-Deputy  of  Ireland,  ruled  that  unhappy 
island  with  consummate  ability,  and  evinced  much  of 
the  talents  of  his  father.  The  West  India  expedition 
was  the  only  failure  the  Protector  experienced.  Gen- 
erals Penn  (the  father  of  our  own  Quaker  Penn)  and 
Venables  effected  a  landing  at  Hispaniola  w^th  some 
10,000  troops,  but  w-ere  defeated.  Re-embarking,  they 
made  a  descent  on  Jamaica,  and  took  it,  though  it 
proved,  for  the  time,  a  barren  capture.  On  their  return, 
they  w^ere  thrown  into  the  Tower ;  for  blunders  were 
almost  as  bad  as  intentional  crimes,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Protector 

Cromw^ell,  however,  wiiose  far-reaching  mind  foresaw 
the  advantage  of  these  islands  in  a  commercial  point  of 
view,  did  not  abandon  the  undertaking,  but  immediately 
fitted  out  a  large  armament  under  Montague,  and  also 
sent  a  letter  to  General  Fortescue,  who  had  been  left  in 
command  of  the  island,  sketching  the  plan  he  w^as  to 
pursue  in  his  military  operations.  We  might  as  weW 
mention  here,  also,  that  having  determined  to  settle  the 


1655.]       PERSECUTION     OF     THE     VAUDOIS.         393 

island  with  English,  he  afterwards  ordered  his  son 
Henry,  Lord-Deputy  of  Ireland,  to  despatch  a  thousand 
Irish  girls  there — as  two  hundred  English  maidens  were 
once  sent  to  Virginia,  as  wives  for  the  colonists,  valued 
at  a  certain  quantity  of  tobacco  per  head.  He  also 
directed  that  the  loose  women  of  London  should  be 
seized  and  transported  thither — and  twelve  hundred  were 
thus  shipped  in  three  vessels.  This,  doubtless,  was 
good  policy,  if  designed  to  affect  London ;  but  we  can- 
not exactly  see  its  wisdom  with  regard  to  Jamaica, 
much  less  its  morality. 

Blake,  who  had  been  despatched  with  a  fleet  to  the 
Mediterranean,  to  clear  it  of  pirates,  was  more  success- 
ful than  Penn  and  Yenables  had  been.  The  Deys  of 
Algiers,  Tunis  and  Tripoli  were  humbled,  one  after 
another — the  Duke  of  Tuscany  was  compelled  to  make 
reparation  for  having  allowed  prizes,  taken  by  Prince 
Rupert,  to  be  sold  in  his  harbors ;  while  the  Republic  of 
Genoa  sent  an  ambassador  to  thank  the  Protector  for 
having  driven  the  pirates  from  their  seas.  Cromwell 
also  turned  his  attention  to  New  England,  and  made  the 
colonies  do  their  part  towards  the  subjugation  of 
Jamaica.  Thus  was  laid  the  foundation  of  the  British 
possessions  in  the  West  Indies. 

PERSECUTION    OF    THE    VAUDOIS. 

In  June,  of  this  year,  came  the  news  of  the  persecu- 
tions in  the  valley  of  Piedmont.  Six  Catholic  regi- 
ments, three  of  which  were  Irish,  were  appointed  to 

17* 


394  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

drive  the  Vaudois  from  their  homes  in  mid- winter. 
The  cruelties,  the  inhuman  barbarity,  that  marked  the 
proceedings  against  the  poor  Protestants,  are  well  known. 
"  Villages  were  burned  to  the  ground  ;  men  w^ere  hewn 
in  pieces ;  children's  brains  dashed  out  against  the  rocks, 
and  women  impaled  naked — a  hundred  and  fifty  females 
were  beheaded,  and  their  heads  used  in  a  game  of 
bowls."  When  the  news  of  the  atrocities  reached 
Cromwell,  he  burst  into  tears — they  were  the  saints  of 
God  who  thus  suffered,  and  all  his  compassion  was 
roused  within  him.  On  that  day*  he  was  to  sign  the 
treaty  with  France,  which  had  for  a  long  time  been 
under  contemplation;  but  he  immediately  refused,  de- 
claring that  negociations  should  proceed  no  further 
until  the  king  and  Mazarin,  the  prime  minister,  would 
pledge  themselves  to  assist  him  in  saving  the  Vaudois 
Protestants.  He  gave  £2000  from  his  private  purse 
towards  relieving  their  wants,  and  appointed  Milton  to 
write  letters  to  the  several  European  powers,  invoking 
their  aid.  The  noble  bard  entered  with  all  the  zeal 
and  enthusiasm  of  his  great  master  into  the  work.  His 
sublime  sonnet  on  the  Vaudois  will  live  for  ever,  a 
monument  both  to  his  genius  and  his  religion. 

Avenge,  0,  Lord  !  thy  slaughtered  saints,  whose  bones 
Lie  scattered  on  the  Alpine  mountains  cold  ; 
Even  them  who  kept  thy  truth  so  pure  of  old, 

When  all  our  fathers  worshipped  stocks  and  stones. 

Forget  not !  in  thy  Book  record  their  groans, 

*  The  3d  of  Jan.,  1655. 


1655.1  SAVES     THE     PIEDMONTESE.  395 

Who  were  thy  sheep,  and,  in  their  ancient  fold, 
Slain  hy  the  bloody  Piedmontese,  that  rolled 

Mother  with  infant  down  the  rocks.     Their  moans 

The  vales  redoubled  to  the  hills,  and  they 

To  Heaven.     Their  martyr'd  blood  and  ashes  sow 
O'er  all  the  Italian  fields,  where  still  doth  sway 

The  triple  tyrant ;  that  from  these  may  grow 
A  hundred-fold,  who  having  learned  thy  way, 
Early  may  fly  the  Babylonian  woe. 

A  day  of  fasting  and  humiliation  was  appointed,  and 
a  collection  ordered  to  be  taken  in  all  the  churches. 
The  contribution  amounted  to  over  £37,000,  showing 
how  deeply  Protestant  England  was  stirred  by  the  per- 
secution of  the  Piedmontese  Christians.  It  is  said  that 
Cromwell,  in  a  burst  of  passion,  replied  to  some  obsta- 
cles that  were  mentioned  as  interfering  with  his  plans, 
that  "  he  would  sail  his  ships  over  the  Alps,  but  that  he 
would  put  a  stop  to  the  persecution." 

Bordeaux,  the  French  ambassador,  complained  of  his 
refusal  to  sign  the  treaty — declaring  that  the  King  of 
France  could  not  meddle  with  the  administration  of  an 
internal  State,  and  that  the  Duke  of  Savoy  had  as  good 
a  right  to  make  laws  for  his  Protestant,  as  he,  the  Pro- 
tector, had  for  his  Catholic,  subjects.  But  Cromwell 
would  not  yield  a  jot  until  France  had  promised  to  put 
a  stop  to  the  cruelties  practised  on  the  Vaudois.  Bor- 
deaux, in  anger,  asked  audience  to  take  leave — still  the 
former  would  not  relent.  War  with  France,  nay,  with 
the  whole  world,  if  necessary,  he  would  wage,  but  this 
persecution  of  the  children  of  God  should  cease. 


396  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

The  king  of  France  at  length  yielded,  and  word  was 
sent  that  the  Duke  of  Savoy  had  granted  an  amnesty  to 
the  Vaudois,  and  restored  their  ancient  rights.  Maza- 
rin,  who,  in  fact,  ruled  France,  had  brought  this  about, 
for  he  stood  in  deadly  fear  of  Cromwell.  It  is  said  that 
he  always  turned  pale  w^hen  he  heard  his  name  men- 
tioned. 

Oliver  w^as  the  champion  of  Protestantism  the  world 
over,  and  he  wished  it  so  understood:  he  w^ould 
defend  it  wherever  his  arm  could  reach.  Not  content 
with  the  efforts  he  had  put  forth  for  the  Piedmontese, 
he  sent  a  messenger  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  remonstrat- 
ing against  his  conduct.  He  also  took  pains  to  let  the 
Pope  understand,  that  he  knew  him  to  be  at  the  bottom 
of  the  unnatural  persecution,  and  if  he  did  not  be- 
ware, he  would  see  his  ships  in  the  harbor  of  Civita 
Vecchia,  and  hear  the  thunder  of  his  cannon  around 
the  Vatican. 

In  all  his  treaties,  he  made  the  rights  of  the  Protest- 
ants an  indispensable  article.  He  insisted  that  English 
merchants  in  Portugal  should  be  allow^ed  to  worship 
God  in  their  own  way,  and  compelled  France  to  respect 
the  lives  of  the  Huguenots.  The  latter  called  him 
"  their  only  hope  next  to  God."  He  sent  a  man  named 
Stoupe,  through  all  that  kingdom,  to  inquire  into 
their  condition,  resources,  &c.,  and  found  that  Mazarin 
had  taken  good  care  not  to  offend  him  on  this  point. 
The  next  year  an  emeute  occurred  at  Nismes,  be- 
tween the  Protestant  and  Catholic  population,  re- 
specting the  election   of   consul,   or  chief   magistrate, 


1655.]  DEFENDS     PROTESTANTS.  397 

in  which  some  of  the  latter  were  killed.  The 
court  immediately  resolved  to  punish  the  Protestants 
severely,  and  pull  down  their  temples.  When  this  was 
known,  they  sent  a  petition  to  the  king,  praying  to  be 
forgiven,  and  at  the  same  time  despatched  a  messenger 
in  haste  to  Cromwell,  claiming  his  protection.  The 
latter  no  sooner  heard  the  messenger's  account,  than 
he  bade  him  refresh  himself,  as  he  would  take  care  of 
his  business;  and  that  very  night  sent  an  express 
to  Lockhart,  his  ambassador  at  Paris,  bidding  him 
demand  forgiveness  for  the  Protestants  of  Nismes ;  and 
if  refused,  to  leave  the  kingdom  without  delay.  Ma- 
zarin  shuffled  and  complained  of  the  naughty  and 
imperious  course  of  the  Protector,  but,  (as  it  was  cur- 
rently reported,)  "  he  was  more  afraid  of  him  than  of  the 
devil,"  and  soon  an  order  was  on  its  way,  promising  the 
pardon  of  the  offenders. 

Thus  the  terror  of  his  name  became  everywhere  a 
shield  for  the  persecuted  Christians,  and  he  was  always 
remembered  by  them  in  their  morning  and  evening 
devotions. 

This  stern  and  decided  interference  of  his,  in  behalf 
of  the  Vaudois,  has  given  his  biographers  another 
occasion  to  charge  him  with  hypocrisy.  He  burst  into 
tears — hazarded  a  war  with  France — defied  the  Pope — 
gave  away  ten  thousand  dollars,  and  all  to  deceive  his 
subjects.  If  he  had  shown  no  feeling,  his  enemies 
would  have  said  with  infinite  zest,  that  his  religious 
fervor  disappeared  so  soon  as  he  felt  himself  firmly  seat- 
ed in  power.     If  he  had  blustered  and  remonstrated, 


398  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

but  risked  nothing,  they  would  have  exclaimed ,  wdth 
pious  horror,  "  behold  his  deceit !"  As  he  took  neither 
course,  but  endangered  the  peace  he  had  so  long  striven 
to  secure,  and  awakened  the  hostility  of  foreign  nations 
— nay  resolutely  and  stubbornly  carried  his  point,  and 
rescued  the  suffering  Vaudois,  his  actions  are  termed, 
with  the  utmost  sang  f void,  "  hypocritical  pretence."  It 
were  desirable  if  English  rulers  of  the  present  day 
would  exhibit  something  of  this  hypocrisy.  They 
will  see  Poland  dismembered — Tahiti  invaded  by  Catho- 
lics— Switzerland  threatened  with  the  legions  of  despots, 
and  be  content  with  a  little  bluster,  a  grave  remon- 
strance or  tAvo,  but  never  interpose  their  strength 
betw^een  the  persecuted  and  the  persecutors.  Cromwell 
laight  have  done  the  same;  and  if  he  had  been  as 
stlfish  and  politic  as  modern  sovereigns  are,  he  would. 
He  who  can  find  nothing  but  heartlessness  in  this  con- 
duct, can  detect  treason  in  heaven.  His  prejudice 
would  turn  gold  into  dross,  beauty  into  deformity,  nay, 
truth  itself  into  falsehood. 

On  the  23d  of  October  appeared  the  declaration  of  war 
with  Spain,  growing  out  of  its  refusal  to  protect  Eng- 
lish traders  in  the  West  Indies,  and  allow  English  mer- 
chants to  worship  God  in  the  Protestant  form,  together 
with  its  general  hostility,  as  a  Papal  country,  to  his  gov- 
ernment. The  close  of  this  year  (1655)  was  distinguish- 
ed for  the  effort  made  by  Cromw^ell  to  give  foreign  Jews 
permission  to  return  to  England,  invested  with  the 
privilege  of  alien  citizens.  It  proved  unsuccessful; 
but  yet,  shows  the  liberality  of  feeling  which  charactei- 


1656.]  ANECDOTE     OP     HIM.  399 

ized  him,  where  danger  to  the  State  was  not  to  be 
apprehended.  A  committee  of  trade  was  also  formed, 
to  take  into  consideration  the  commerce  of  the  country, 
and  adopt  means  for  its  advancement. 

The  opening  of  the  next  year  (1656)  was  com- 
paratively calm.  Fiery  republicans  and  hot-headed 
royalists  could  not  remain  entirely  quiet;  but  the 
thorough  police  regulations,  everywhere  established, 
and  the  firm  hand  with  which  the  Protector  held  the 
reins  of  government,  kept  them  still,  if  not  reconciled. 
Blake  and  Montague,  at  Cadiz,  cruising  in  search  of  the 
enemy — negotiations  with  Portugal,  or  rather  threats, 
which  had  taken  their  place — arrangements  for  the 
marriage  of  his  daughters,  Frances  and  Mary  (the  for- 
mer to  Rich,  the  latter   to  Lord  Fauconberg)* — cor- 

*  Some  writers  say  Faulconbridge.  "  There  is  a  curious  story  re- 
lated of  Frances,  the  youngest  and  most  beautiful  of  Cromwell's  daugh- 
ters— the  one  whom  the  gossip  of  Europe  had  selected  as  the  bride  of 
Charles  II.  Jerry  White,  one  of  Oliver's  chaplains,  aspired  to  her 
hand.  This  being  told  Cromwell,  he  ordered  them  to  be  watched,  and 
one  day  caught  the  poor  chaplain  in  Fanny's  apartment,  on  his  knees 
before  her.  '  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  posture,'  exclaimed  Oliver. 
The  chaplain  with  great  presence  of  mind,  replied,  "May  it  please 
your  highness,  I  have  a  long  time  courted  that  young  gentlewoman 
there,  my  lady's  woman,  and  cannot  prevail ;  I  was  therefore  humbly 
praying  her  ladyship  to  intercede  for  me.'  Oliver,  turning  to  the 
waiting-woman,  said, '  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  He  is  my  friend, 
and  I  expect  you  should  treat  him  as  such.'  She,  desiring  nothing 
more,  replied  with  a  low  courtesy,  '  If  Mr.  White  intends  me  that 
honor,  I  should  not  oppose  him.'  Upon  this  Oliver  said, '  Well,  call 
Goodwin  ;  this  business  shall  be  done  presently,  before  I  go  out  of  the 
room.'  Jerry  could  not  retreat.  Goodwin  came,  and  they  were  in- 
stantly married  ;  the  bride  at  the  same  time  receiving  £500  from  the 
Protector 


400  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

respondence  with  Henry  Cromwell,  deputy  of  Ireland — • 
great  efforts  to  secure  the  election  of  right  members  of 
parliament,  which  was  to  meet  in  September:  these 
were  the  matters  and  objects  w^hich  engrossed  the 
mind  of  the  Protector  during  the  spring  and  summer. 
Meanwhile,  the  election  w^as  going  on  in  various  parts 
of  the  kingdom,  characterized  by  the  bitterest  animosi- 
ties. Cromwell  needed  supplies  as  well  as  Charles  L, 
and  also  a  parhament  to  vote  them.  But  he  resolved, 
at  the  same  time,  that  it  should  not  be  so  refractory  as 
the  latter  had  been;  and  he,  therefore,  arrested  the 
most  turbulent  spirits,  that  w^ere  striving  to  have  an 
opposition  returned  too  strong  for  him.  Vane,  for 
his  tract  called  the  "Healing  Question,"  was  sent  to 
the  Isle  of  Wight;  Bradshaw,  Ludlow,  Rich,  and  Col. 
Okey,  were  put  under  arrest ;  Harrison  sent  into  Pen- 
dennis  Castle,  and  a  strong  hand  laid  on  the  active 
royalists.  He  did  not  ask  these  men  to  swear  allegiance 
to  his  government — he  required  them  only  to  be  peace- 
able, and  not  endeavor  to  raise  disturbance.  They 
refusing  to  give  any  such  promise,  he  deemed  it  neces- 
sary for  the  public  safety,  to  confine  them  for  awhile. 
Still  a  large  opposition  was  returned,  and  among  them 
Scot,  Haselrig,  and  Ashley  Cooper,  the  latter  of  whom 
had  been  jilted  by  Cromwell's  daughter.  These  and 
others  the  Protector  and  his  council  thought  best  to 
send  home,  which  they  did  in  a  summary  and  rather 
extraordinary  manner.  They  had  the  powder  to  verify 
the  returns  of  the  elections;  which  they  stretched  to 
the  powder  of  exclusion  of  members. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FROM  THE  SECOND  PROTECTORATE  PARLIAMENT  TO  THE 
DEATH  OF  CROMWELL,  SEPT.,  1656  TO  SEPT.,  1658. 

Opening  of  Parliament— Members  Rejected— Naylor  and  the  Quakers 
—Victory  of  Blake  and  Montague— Sindercombe  Conspiracj  — 
Narrow  Escape  of  Cromwell — Petition  and  Advice— Cromwell 
Offered  the  Crown— Conferences  on  the  Subject— Finally  Rejects 
It— Statements  of  His  Enemies— Conspiracies— Marriage  of  His 
Two  Daughters— Re-assembling  of  Parliament— Refuses  to  Acknow- 
ledo-e  the  New  House  Provided  for  in  "  Petitions  and  Advice" — 
CromweU's  Speech— The  Madness  of  Parliament  Encourages  Con- 
spirators—Dissolved by  Cromwell— His  New  Life  Guard— Family 
afflictions— His  Last  Sickness  and  Death— His  Character. 

The  new  parliament  assembled  on  the  17th  of  Sept., 
and,  after  service,  received  the  opening  message  of  the 
Protector.  He  spoke,  as  was  his  wont,  extempore; 
sometimes  flashing  up  with  excitement,  and  freeing  his 
overwrought  spirit  in  strong  expressions,  and  then 
floundering  heavily  through  a  sea  of  thoughts. 

He  first  took  up  the  Spanish  war — spoke  of  its  origin 
and  justice— then  referred  to  the  plots  laid  to  assassinate 
him — denounced  the  Levellers  and  Fifth  Monarchy  men 
— defended  the  appointment  of  major-generals,  with 
openness  and  earnestness — pressed  on  parliament  the 
propriety  of  toleration  of  all  Christian   sects — recom- 


402  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

mended  public  appropriations  for  the  support  of  the 
gospel  ministry,  and  urged  reform  in  law,  especially  the 
criminal  law,  which  made  almost  every  offence  a  capital 
one.  He  then  alluded  to  the  state  of  finances,  saying, 
there  w^as  great  need  of  money  to  carry  on  the  war 
abroad,  and  protect  the  government  at  home,  and  con- 
cluded by  quoting  the  85th  Psalm,  beginning,  "  Lord, 
Thou  hast  been  very  favorable  to  thy  land — Thou  hast 
brought  back  the  captivity  of  Jacob,  &c.,"  and  tells 
them,  if  they  will  only  "  put  their  hearts"  to  the  work, 
they  need  not  be  afraid  "  if  Pope,  Spaniard,  devil,  and 
all,  set  themselves  against  them ;"  but,  can  joyfully, 
triumphantly,  "  sing  Luther's  psalm,  '  Eine  feste  Burg 
ist  unser  Gott' — God  is  our  refuge  and  strength  ;  a  very 
present  help  in  time  of  trouble — therefore,  will  we  not 
fear,  though  the  earth  be  removed,  and  though  the 
mountains  thereof  be  carried  into  the  sea  *  *  *  The 
Lord  of  Hosts  is  wdth  us,  the  God  of  Jacob  is  our 
refuge." 

The  members  then  adjourned  to  the  House,  at  the 
door  of  which  they  found  soldiers  ranked  who  refused 
admittance  to  all  who  had  not  received  certificates 
from  the  council.  Nearly  a  hundred,  having  refus- 
ed to  give  their  pledge  to  support  the  government, 
were  denied  certificates,  and  hence  excludedfrom  their 
seats.  Loud  outcries  were  made  against  this  violation 
of  the  privilege  of  parliament — the  hundred  members 
appealed  to  the  House,  but  were  referred  by  it  to  the 
council,  and  finally  were  compelled  to  return  to  their 
constituents,  content  with  having  framed   a   masterly 


1656.]  CASE     OF     NAYLOR.  403 

appeal  to  the  people  of  England,  in  which  it  was  evident 
they  had  all  the  law  on  their  side,  while  Cromwell  could 
plead  only  necessity. 

The  parliament  having  chosen  Widdrington  Speaker, 
soon  showed  that  the  Protector  had  nothing  to  fear  from 
their  opposition.  The  war  with  Spain  was  upheld — 
Charles  Stuart  and  his  family  pronounced  destitute  of 
all  claims  to  the  throne,  and  £400,000  voted  for  the  use 
of  government.  In  the  meantime,  the  case  of  Naylor, 
the  mad  Quaker,  was  taken  up,  and  consumed  three 
months  in  its  discussion,  much  to  the  annoyance  of 
Cromwell,  who  endeavored  to  prevent  the  ridiculous 
and  severe  punishment  awarded  him.*  Other  sects, 
such  as  the  Muggletonians,  Unitarians,  &c.,  came 
in  for  their  share  of  persecution;  which  added  to 
his  displeasure,  for,  in  the  first  place,  he  wished  more 

•  The  Quakers  had  recently  sprung  into  existence  as  a  sect ;  George 
Fox,  the  father  of  it,  commenced  his  itinerant  preaching  against  all 
ordained  ministers ;  declaring  that  the  "  inward  light"  was  the  only 
guide  in  religion,  in  1650  ;  and  it  was  not  till  two  years  after,  that  the 
Quakers  met  in  separate  assemblies.  From  this  time  on,  they  began  to 
increase,  and,  for  refusing  to  obey  the  magistrates,  who  would  coerce 
their  religious  liberty,  and  interrupting  the  worship  of  other  denomi- 
nations, they  were  soon  honored  with  a  good  deal  of  persecution.  This 
James  Naylor,  formerly  one  of  Lambert's  officers,  was  one  of  the  most 
extravagant  of  the  sect,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  accompanied  into 
Bristol  in  a  most  extraordinary  manner,  and  to  receive  the  same  honors 
as  Jesus  Christ  did  when  he  entered  Jerusalem.  For  this,  and  similar 
blasphemies,  he  was  condemned  to  the  pillory,  to  have  his  tongue 
bored  through  with  a  hot  iron,  to  be  branded  in  the  forehead,  &c. 
Cromwell  was  opposed  to  these  cruelties,  and  received  even  Fox 
himself  with  kindness,  and  told  him,  that  if  they  could  see  each  other 
oftener  and  discourse  on  spiritual  things  they  would  be  nearer  together. 


404  OLIVER     CROMWELL 

toleration,  and,  in  the  second,  felt  that  weightier  mat 
ters  deserved  the  consideration  of  members. 

The  system  of  major-generals  was  now,  at  his  sug- 
gestion, abandoned — much  to  the  joy  of  the  people,  on 
whom  the  quartering  of  the  military  fell  heavy.  About 
the  same  time,  Blake  and  Montague  attacked  the  Span- 
ish fleet,  in  the  bay  of  Santa  Cruz  ;  and  though  it  w^as 
defended  by  a  castle,  and  a  strong  line  of  forts,  burned  it 
to  the  water-edge.  Captain  Stayner  led  the  van  in 
this  desperate  attack,  and  was  afterwards  knighted  for 
his  gallantry.  A  short  time  previous,  he  had  captured 
the  celebrated  plate-fleet  that  Penn  and  Venables  were  to 
intercept,  and  seized  a  large  amount  of  money,  which 
came  very  opportune  to  the  exhausted  treasury  of 
Cromwell.  Blake,  not  long  after  this,  his  last  victory, 
was  taken  sick,  and  returned  to  England  to  die.  He 
expired  in  sight  of  the  country  whose  name  he  had 
made  so  terrible  on  the  seas. 

In  January,  of  the  year  1657,  occurred  the  famous 
Sexby  and  Sindercombe  conspiracies.  Sexby,  an  Ana- 
baptist colonel,  had  promised  to  assassinate  Cromwell, 
for  which  he  was  to  receive  £1600  from  Charles  Stuart. 
Finding  no  opportunity  to  effect  his  purpose,  he  w^ent 
to  Flanders,  to  consult  about  the  intended  insurrection, 
which  was  to  occur  at  the  same  time  that  the  fleet  of 
Spain,  who  was  to  invade  England,  should  reach  the 
coast.  During  his  absence,  Sindercombe,  formerly  a 
fierce  republican,  and  brave  officer,  but  who,  having 
turned  Leveller,  and  conspired  against  the  government, 
was  finally  cashiered,  took  his  place.     He  first  attempted 


1657.]  ATTEMPT     TO     SLAY     HIM.  405 

to  blow  up  Cromwell's  carriage,  as  it  was  passing  from 
Whitehall  to  Hampton  Court ;  but,  failing  in  this,  re- 
solved to  set  fire  to  Whitehall  at  night,  and  slay  him  in 
the  general  confusion  that  would  follow.  A  hundred 
conspirators,  supplied  with  fleet  horses,  were  to  aid  him 
in  this  infernal  attempt. 

Everything  being  completed,  on  the  night  of  the  8th 
of  January,  a  basket  of  fierce  combustible  materials 
was  placed  in  the  building,  and  a  slow  match  kindled, 
which,  in  half  an  hour,  or  at  midnight,  would  reach 
it.  But  while  the  fire  was  gradually  making  its  way  to 
the  fatal  material,  a  sentinel  on  guard  smelt  the  com- 
bustion, and  gave  the  alarm,  and  the  whole  thing  was 
discovered.  Sindercombe  was  immediately  seized, 
though  he  defended  himself  desperately.  Thrown  into 
prison,  he  saved  the  headsman  the  trouble  of  his 
his  execution,  by  taking  poison — though  some  of  the 
enemies  of  Cromwell  have  the  audacity  to  intimate  it 
was  given  by  order  of  the  latter. 

Parliament,  on  hearing  of  the  Protector's  narrow 
escape,  adjourned  a  week,  till  the  affair  could  be  sifted 
to  the  bottom ;  and  w^hen  it  again  assembled,  appointed 
a  day  of  thanksgiving  for  the  preservation  of  his  High- 
ness. The  members  went  over  in  a  body,  to  congratulate 
him  on  his  wonderful  deliverance.  He,  in  return,  on 
thanksgiving  day,  after  hearing  two  sermons,  entertained 
them  with  a  princely  dinner,  and  in  the  evening  with 
rare  instrumental  and  vocal  music. 

On  the  heels  of  this  came  the  celebrated  "Address 
and  Remonstrance,"  presented  by  Alderman  Pack,  mem- 


406  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

ber  from  London.  The  chief  articles  in  this  remon- 
strance, were,  first,  that  Cromwell  should  assume  the 
title  of  king,  and  be  invested  with  the  power  to  name 
his  successor ;  second,  that  a  parliament  should  be  con- 
voked, at  least,  once  in  three  years ;  and  consist  of  two 
Houses ;  third,  that  there  should  be  no  encroachments 
on  privileges  of  parliament,  and  no  members  be  excluded, 
except  on  judgment  of  the  House.  The  fourth  article 
related  to  qualifications  of  members ;  the  fifth  declared 
that  the  new  House  should  consist  of  not  less  than  forty, 
and  not  more  than  seventy,  members ;  the  sixth  referred 
to  the  alteration  of  the  laws ;  the  seventh,  to  the  reve- 
nue ;  eighth,  to  the  privy  council ;  ninth,  to  the  great 
officers  of  State  ;  tenth  and  eleventh,  to  religious  tolera- 
tion; and  the  other  seven,  to  less  important  matters. 
All  were  passed  without  a  division,  except  the  one  re- 
specting the  title  of  king,  which  occupied  some  days'  de- 
bate ;  but  was  finally  carried  by  a  large  majority.  The 
bill  then  took  the  name  of  "  Petition  and  Advice,"  and 
with  the  additional  article,  that  unless  the  Protector  gave 
his  consent  to  the  whole,  no  part  of  it  should  he  of  force, 
was  presented  to  him  in  a  flattering  address,  by  the 
Speaker,  Widdrington.  To  the  surprise  of  parliament, 
he  refused,  at  that  time,  to  give  his  assent  to  it ;  and 
said,  the  questions  involved  required  deliberation. 

Previous  to  this,  however,  while  the  article  respect- 
ing kingship  was  under  debate,  a  hundred  officers  in  the 
army  presented  themselves  before  him,  begging  him  not 
to  accept  the  proffered  title.  His  answer  to  them  was 
abrupt  and  severe.     He  exposed  their  miserable  pohcy 


1657.]  PETITION     AND     ADVICE.  40? 

and  ridiculed  their  scruples — telling  them  that  a  short 
time  since,  when  he  was  installed  Protector,  eome  of 
them  presented  him  the  instrument  of  government,  wdth 
the  title  "  king "  actually  inserted.  He  then  refused  to 
accept  it ;  and  now,  although  he  "  loved  the  title,  as 
a  feather  in  the  hat^  as  little  as  they  did,  yet  it  was 
strange  they  should  boggle  at  it."  He  spoke,  also,  of 
the  other  articles ;  especially  the  one  authorizing  the 
House  of  Lords — in  short,  gave  them  to  understand 
they  knew  but  little  about  the  matter ;  and  it  did  not 
become  them,  of  all  men,  to  make  such  a  show  of  con- 
science. 

We  will  not  enter  into  a  detailed  account  of  the  con- 
ferences, dialogues,  &c.,  which  this  question  occasion- 
ed. The  chief  reason  assigned  by  parliament  for  in- 
sisting on  it  was,  that  the  laws  and  constitution  of  Eng- 
land were  adapted  to  the  title  "  king  ;"  and  it  would  be 
necessary  to  make  a  thorough  change  in  every  depart- 
ment, to  adapt  them  to  "  Protector."  Cromwell  wished, 
exceedingly,  to  have  some  portions  of  the  instrument 
adopted ;  and  yet,  they  had  so  fettered  him,  that  he 
must  either  accept,  or  reject  the  whole.  This  he  com- 
plained of  in  a  second  interview;  but  still,  gave  a 
negative,  though  not  the  most  decided.  The  House, 
however,  adhered  to  its  "  Petition  and  Advice,"  and 
appointed  a  committee  of  ninety-nine  to  confer  with 
him.  The  chief  argument  used  by  the  several  speakers, 
in  their  interviews,  was  the  one  already  mentioned; — 
that  the  title  "king"  was  grounded  in  all  the  institutions 
of  England;  and  the   powers  attached  to   it  defined 


108  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

while  Protector  meant  almost  anything.  The  con- 
ference was  broken  up,  by  Cromwell  telling  them,  that 
he  would  meet  them  on  Monday,  April  13th.  At  the 
time  appointed,  they  came  together,  and  his  Highness 
made  a  very  long  and  intricate  speech,  in  which  he 
endeavored  to  weigh  fairly  the  arguments  on  both  sides 
— winding  up  with  the  rather  startling  one  against  the 
article,  that  God  seemed  to  have  dealt  so  with  the 
family  of  Stuart,  "  that  he  blasted  the  very  title'' 

The  next  ten  days,  the  Protector  was  sick,  and  could 
not  attend  the  committee;  but  on  the  third  day,  he 
received  them,  and  listened  to  a  long  and  tedious  reply 
to  his  objections  ;  the  sum  of  which  was,  that  the  wish 
of  parhament,  and  the  welfare  of  the  nation,  ought  to 
be  binding. 

On  Monday,  there  was  another  session,  and  Crom- 
well spoke,  declaring  his  willingness,  in  all  proper  ways, 
to  be  subservient  to  the  representatives  of  the  people  : 
but  it  seemed  to  him  that  parliament  was  authority 
enough  to  make  any  title  legal — he  had  his  commission 
as  general  from  it,  and  why  not  keep  that  of  Protector. 
He  wished  only  the  peaceable  settlement  of  the  nation, 
and  cared  nothing  for  his  own  power.  He  acknow- 
ledged that  he  had  "griped  at  the  government  of  the 
nation  without  a  legal  consent ;  but  that  was  done  upon 
principles  of  necessity."  The  time  for  such  exercise  of 
authority  was  past ;  and  he  wished  parliament  to  setttle 
the  government  on  principles  of  law  and  constitution. 

The  next  day,  he  let  the  question  of  kingship  pass  ; 
and  took  up  the  other  articles  of  the  Petition  in  detail ; 


1657.]         REFUSES     TO     BE     MADE     KING.  409 

commenting  upon  them,  and  suggesting  such  altera- 
tions, as  he  thought  beneficial. 

The  next  two  days,  were  spent  by  parliament  in  con- 
sidering the  corrections  offered,  and  other  matters  of 
general  interest  to  the  State  ;  but  on  May  1st,  it  again 
sent  the  committee  to  the  Protector,  to  hear  his  deci- 
sion on  the  kingship.  His  speech  was  briefer  on  this 
occasion  than  formerly ;  and  after  apologizing  for  troub- 
ling them  so  long,  and  complimenting  them  on  their 
patriotic  labors,  and  repeating  the  principle  on  which 
his  objections  were  founded,  he  concluded  by  saying, 
"  I  am  persuaded  to  return  this  answer  to  you  :  that  I 
cannot  undertake  this  government  with  the  title  of  king. 
And  this  is  mine  answer  to  this  great  and  weighty 
matter''  Thus  was  this  protracted  and  annoying  affair 
ended ;  and  parliament  adopted  the  remainder  of  the 
"  Petition  and  Advice."  Lambert,  in  the  open  and 
detetermined  ground  he  took  against  the  assumption  of 
the  title,  showed  so  much  spleen  and  hatred,  that  he  was 
soon  afterwards  dismissed  from  office,  though  on  a  pen- 
sion of  £2000  per  annum. 

Much  has  been  said  about  this  conference  on  the 
kingly  title;  and  Cromwell,  as  usual,  charged  with 
hypocrisy  throughout.  If  he  had  accepted  it,  his 
ambition  and  former  trickery  would,  of  course,  have 
been  most  apparent.  Concealing  his  deep  and  selfish 
designs  under  the  mask  of  religion  and  patriotism,  until 
he  felt  power  within  his  grasp,  he  then  vaulted  into 
the  throne.  Such  would  have  been  the  reasoning, 
had  he  been  made  king.  As  he  refused,  however, 
18 


410  OLIVER     CROxMWELL. 

there  is  no  other  way  to  make  the  charge  of  hypocrisy 
and  ambition  stick  to  him,  except  by  declaring  that 
his  heart  was  in  the  crown ;  and  his  fears  alone  kept 
his  hand  from  it.  So  it  makes  no  difference  in  his 
character,  whether  he  accepted  or  refused — seized  it  for- 
cibly, or  received  it  as  a  gift  from  parliament — the  same 
harsh  judgment  is  pronounced  upon  him  by  his  enemies. 
The  welfare  of  the  country  did  not  enter  the  category 
at  all ;  it  was  simply,  a  balancing  between  selfish  fear 
and  ambition.  This  man,  who  had  risked  his  life  in 
open  war  with  the  sovereign  power  of  England,  and 
a  thousand  times  on  the  battle-field ;  who  had  placed 
his  foot  on  the  neck  of  a  king;  broken  up  parUament 
at  the  pike's  point,  and  dissolved  it  by  his  imperial 
word ;  boldly  assumed  all  the  power  the  title  of  king 
could  confer ;  laid  his  hand  on  the  very  chieftains  who 
surrounded  him  at  Naseby,  Marston  Moor,  Dunbar,  and 
Worcester,  and  quartered  his  troops  in  almost  every 
town  of  England  ; — this  man,  who  had  performed  the 
boldest  acts  ever  planned  by  a  human  intellect  or  exe- 
cuted by  a  human  arm,  and,  as  asserted,  solely  for  the 
purpose  of  getting  a  crown,  refused,  through  personal 
fear,  to  take  it  when  offered  him,  though  urged  upon  him 
by  the  highest  legislative  body  of  the  land.  To  such 
logic  we  must  surrender  our  reason,  and  adopt  its  con- 
clusions, if  we  would  escape  the  heinous  offence  of 
upholding  a  "monster,  a  tyrant,  and  a  hypocrite." 

But  when  the  fog  is  cleared  away  from  this  insignifi- 
cant affair,  the  simple  truth  is  found  to  be  that  Crom- 
well   and   parliament   both    felt    that    the   government 


1657.]  SECOND      [NST  ALLATION.  411 

would  be  more  firmly  settled  with  a  king  than  with  a 
protector.  The  latter  title  was  new,  and  seemed  merely 
provisional,  while  the  former  was  deeply  rooted  in 
men's  hearts,  and  claimed,  in  spite  of  themselves,  their 
reverence.  The  government,  to  the  minds  of  all,  seemed 
incomplete  and  unfixed,  while  the  throne  was  vacant. 
It  is  not  easy  to  change  the  current  of  a  whole  nation's 
feelings  into  a  new  channel,  and  cause  an  entire  trans- 
fer of  its  reverence.  On  the  other  hand,  to  accept  the 
title  was  simply  to  change  the  name,  nothing  more  ;  for 
Cromwell  was,  in  fact,  king  of  Great  Britain,  and  he 
knew  it.  He  regarded  it,  as  he  said,  "  no  more  than 
a  feather  in  a  cap ;"  and  was  swayed  entirely  by  mo- 
tives of  expediency.  He  demanded,  and  received, 
all  the  courtesies  of  manner  and  language  from  foreign 
monarchs,  and  all  the  reverence  from  foreign  ambassa- 
dors due  to  a  king :  he  wielded  all  the  power  at  home 
and  abroad,  and  stood  higher  in  the  admiration  and 
respect  of  the  world,-  than  any  crowned  head  in  it. 
To  suppose  it  was  a  matter  of  any  personal  conse- 
quence to  him,  whether  he  received  the  mere  title,  is 
absurd  ;  and  would  make  him  as  weak  as  some  would 
make  him  criminal.  That  so  great  an  idiot  and  so 
timid  a  man  should  have  ruled  England  with  such  a 
strong  hand  and  consummate  ability,  demands  an  expla- 
nation never  yet  vouchsafed. 

The  next  month,  June  26th,  a  new  inauguration  of 
the  Protector  took  place.  This  was  done  in  Westmin- 
ster Hall — Cromwell  standing  at  the  upper  end,  in  front 
of  a  magnificent  chair  of  state,  and   the  vast   throng 


412  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

before  and  below  him.  The  Speaker  advancing, 
presented  him  with  a  robe  of  purple,  bound  with 
ermine,  a  superb  Bible,  heavily  gilt  and  embossed — and 
girding  a  sword  to  his  side,  placed  a  sceptre  of  gold 
in  his  hand.  The  oath  was  then  administered,  followed 
by  a  fervent  prayer  from  the  chaplain,  invoking  the 
blessing  of  heaven  on  the  Protector,  the  parliament  and 
people.  Cromwell  then  rose  from  his  knees,  and  sat 
down,  with  the  French  and  Dutch  ambassadors  by  his 
side ;  while  near  by  him,  on  either  hand,  w^ere  the  Earl 
of  March  and  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  bearing  the 
sword  of  state,  and  of  the  city.  Behind  him  stood  his 
numerous  family,  and  the  three  lords  of  the  council. 
For  a  moment  all  was  still — ^but  at  a  given  signal 
the  trumpets  rang  out  their  jubilee,  the  heralds  pro- 
claimed the  title  of  Lord-Protector,  and  the  assembled 
thousands  shook  the  lofty  building  that  enclosed  them, 
with,  "  Long  hve  the  Lord-Protector  !"  "  God  save  the 
Lord-Protector!"  He  then  rose,  and  bowing  to  the 
ambassadors,  walked  in  state  to  his  carriage,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  Whitehall. 

Parliament  immediately  adjourned  for  six  months,  to 
give  him  time  to  organize  the  upper  House,  provided 
for  in  the  "  Petition  and  Advice." 

During  the  autumn  months  that  followed,  the  war 
with  Spain  was  carried  triumphantly  forward,  and 
England  took  rapid  strides  towards  the  maritime  great- 
ness she  afterwards  reached. 

About  the  same  time,  another  expedition  was  fitted 
out,  under  Reynolds  and  Montague,  the  former  to  com- 


1657.]  LEAGUE     WITH     FRANCE.  413 

mand  the  land,  and  the  latter  the  sea,  forces,  to  operate 
against  the  Spanish  power  in  the  Netherlands.  A 
league  had  been  entered  into  with  France,  by  which 
she  was  to  furnish  20,000  men,  and  England  6,000  and 
a  fleet ;  and  the  combined  forces  to  march  on  Grave- 
lines,  Mardike  and  Dunkirk.  France  was  to  have 
Gravelines  for  her  share,  and  England  the  other  two 
tow^ns,  which  being  seaports,  would  give  her  great 
advantage  in  any  difficulties  with  continental  powers. 
Cromwell  promptly  performed  his  part  of  the  contract ; 
but  the  artful  Mazarin  endeavored  to  divert  the  expe- 
dition from  the  coast  towns,  to  places  inland.  The 
Protector  penetrated  his  policy  at  once,  and  gave  him 
to  understand,  most  distinctly,  that  he  would  have  no 
double-dealing,  which  brought  the  wily  Duke  to  a 
more  strait-forward  course,  and  Mardike  was  soon  be- 
seiged,  and  in  September,  taken.  The  next  month,  the 
Spaniards,  under  the  Duke  of  York,  made  a  desperate 
attempt  to  recover  it,  but  were  repulsed  with  terrible 
loss.  The  combined  armies  then  moved  forward  upon 
Dunkirk :  the  place,  however,  did  not  surrender  till  the 
next  summer. 

A  remonstrance  to  the  Grand  Seignor,  in  August,  for 
the  unlawful  seizure  of  an  English  ship — the  weddings 
of  his  two  daughters,*  spoken  of  before — Frances,  the 
youngest  and  most  beautiful  of  his  children,  to  Robert 
Rich,  son  of  Lord  Rich,  and  grandson  of  the  Earl  of 
Warwick,  and  Mary,  to  Lord  Faulconbridge,t  were  the 
principal  events  between  the  prorogation  of  parliament, 
*  In  November.  t  Or  Fauconberg. 


414  OLIVER     GROMWELL. 

in  June,  and  its  re-assembling,  on  the  first  of  Janu- 
ary, 1658. 

The  marriage  festivities  had  scarcely  subsided,  before 
Cromwell  was  compelled  to  throw  himself  again  into 
the  conflicts  which  had  already  sapped  the  vigor  of  his 
life,  and  would,  in  a  few  months,  place  him  in  his  grave. 

Owing  to  his  feeble  health,  he  addressed  only  a  short 
speech  to  parliament,  leaving  Nathaniel  Fiennes  to 
finish  what  he  wished  to  say. 

It  required  no  prophet  to  foretell  a  stormy  session 
to  this  parliament.  The  hundred  members  excluded 
last  year,  had  been  returned,  and  were  burning  to 
revenge  themselves  on  the  Protector. 

The  New  House  which  was  designed  to  take  the 
place  of  the  Chamber  of  Peers,  was  found  to  consist 
of  only  a  little  over  forty  members,  although  sixty-one 
had  been  summoned : — among  them  we  find  Richard  and 
Henry  Cromwell.  No  sooner  was  the  lower  House 
organized,  than  Scott  and  Haselrig — leading  the  opposi- 
tion, refused  to  acknowledge  the  New  House,  as  a 
House  of  Lords,  and  entered  upon  a  furious  debate 
respecting  the  name  it  should  bear.  Four  days  were 
spent  in  this  manner,  and  on  the  fifth,  Cromwell  sum- 
moned both  Houses  to  meet  him  at  Whitehall,  where 
he  addressed  them  in  a  long  and  earnest  speech,  appeal- 
ing to  them  by  the  sufferings  and  welfare  of  their 
common  country,  by  their  love  of  truth  and  religion,  to 
cease  their  wranglings,  and  commence,  at  once,  the 
settlement  of  the  affairs  of  the  nation.  He  spoke  of  the 
agitations   on    the   continent,   and    the   danger  which 


1658.]  SPEECH      TO     PARLIAMENT.  415 

threatened  Protestantism  on  every  side,  as  strong 
motives  for  them  to  act  as  statesmen.  He  then  turned 
to  domestic  matters,  saying,  "I  beseech  you,  look  to 
your  own  affairs  at  home,  how  they  stand.  I  am  per- 
suaded you  are  all — I  apprehend  you  are  all  honest, 
worthy  and  good  men,  and  that  there  is  not  a  man  of 
you,  but  would  desire  to  be  found  a  good  patriot.  I 
know  you  would.  We  are  apt  to  boast  somewhat,  that 
we  are  Englishmen ;  and  truly  it  is  no  shame  for  us 
that  we  are  Englishmen ;  but  it  is  a  motive  to  us  to  do 
like  Englishmen,  and  seek  the  real  good  of  the  nation, 
and  the  interest  of  it.  But,  I  beseech  you,  what  is  our 
case  at  home  ?  I  profess  I  do  not  well  know  where  to 
begin  on  this  head,  or  where  to  end — I  do  not.  *  *  * 
We  are  full  of  calamities,  and  of  divisions  amongst  us 
in  respect  of  the  spirits  of  men,  though,  through  a  won- 
derful, admirable,  and  never  to  be  sufficiently  admired 
providence  of  God,  in  peace.  And  the  fighting  we 
have  had,  and  the  success  we  have  had — yea,  we  that 
are  here,  we  are  an  astonishment  to  the  world.  And 
take  us  in  that  temper  we  are  in,  or  rather  distemper, 
it  is  the  greatest  miracle  that  ever  befel  the  sons  of  men, 
that  we  are  got  again  to  peace.  And  whoever  shall 
seek  to  break  it,  God  Almighty  root  that  man  out  of  the 
nation !  And  he  will  do  it,  let  the  pretences  he  what 
they  may  /"  And  further,  he  said,  with  his  soul  all  on 
fire — that  those  w^ho  would  not  stop  in  their  course,  to 
consider  what  became  of  the  next  generation,  "must 
have  the  heart  of  a  Cain,  who  was  marked,  and  made 
an  enemy  to  all  men — all  men  enemies  to  him.     For 


416  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

the  wrath  and  justice  of  God  will  persecute  such  a  nian 
to  the  grave,  if  not  to  hell."  He  continued  for  a  while  in 
this  energetic  strain,  carried  away  by  the  picture  the  dis- 
tracted country  presented  to  his  imagination,  and  finally 
asked  them  what  kind  of  government  they  expected  to 
adopt,  or  what  "  model  w^ould  satisfy  the  minds  of  men," 
if  not  the  one  they  were  called  together  upon  ?  What 
else  hindered  the  nation  from  being  an  Aceldama — a 
field  of  blood  ?"  The  soldiers,  he  said,  were  unpaid, 
and  going  barefoot  in  that  January  month,  through  the 
streets  of  the  city,  yet  cheerful  withal,  and  ready  to 
suffer  for  the  good  of  the  Commonwealth ;  "  and  he  who 
had  no  due  sense  cf  this,  had  a  heart  as  hard  as  the 
weather." 

Having  thus  spoken  of  the  danger  from  enemies 
w^ithout,  and  cavaliers  at  home — of  the  horrors  of  war 
and  the  blessings  of  peace,  he  added  that  if  they  still  per- 
sisted in  provoking  "  distraction  and  cruel  war,  it  would 
be  said,  It  is  all  over  with  England."  Still  he  trusted 
God  would  not  leave  them  to  such  a  course — "  and,"  said 
he,  "  while  I  live,  and  am  able,  I  shall  be  ready  to  stand 
and  fall  with  you,  in  this  seemingly  promising  union, 
which  God  hath  wrought  among  you,  which  I  hope 
neither  the  pride  nor  envy  of  man  shall  be  able  to  make 
void.  I  have  taken  my  oath  to  govern  according  to 
the  laws  that  are  now  made,  and  I  trust  that  I  shall 
fully  answer  it.  And  know,  I  sought  not  this  place.  / 
speak  it  before  God,  angels  and  men — 1  did  not.  You 
sought  me  for  it.  You  brought  me  to  it,  and  I  took  my 
oath  to  be  faithful  to  the  interests  of  these  nations — to 


1658.]  HIS     DANGEROUS       POSITION,  417 

be  faithful  to  the  government,  *  *  *  and  I  shall,  I  must, 
see  it  done  according  to  the  articles  of  government — ■ 
that  every  just  sentiment  may  be  preserved — that  a 
godly  ministry  may  be  upheld,  and  not  offended  by 
seducing  and  seduced  spirits — that  all  men  may  be  pre- 
served in  their  just  rights,  whether  civil  or  spiritual. 
Upon  this  account  did  I  take  oath,  and  swear  to  this 
government.  And  so  having  declared  my  heart  and 
mind  to  you,  on  this,  I  have  nothing  more  hut  to  pray 
God  Almighty  to  bless  you." 

This  was  spoken  extempore,  in  all  the  sincerity  and 
earnestness  of  his  overflowing  heart.  He  saw  the  na- 
tion but  just  settled  into  quietness,  again  agitated  by  reck- 
less enemies,  and  revengeful  men,  and  he  made  a  last  and 
noble  appeal  to  them  to  pause.  By  their  children — by 
the  liberties  for  which  they  had  fought — by  the  glory 
of  England,  and  the  good  of  the  church,  he  besought 
them  to  arrest  the  parricidal  hand. 

Noble,  but  vain  effort!  His  enemies,  too  selfish  to 
place  their  country  before  the  gratification  of  their 
passions,  let  everything  drive  towards  irremediable  ruin. 
For  ten  days  more,  the  same  debate  went  on,  while 
conspirators,  taking  advantage  of  the  hostile  position  of 
parliament,  rallied  for  a  new  effort.  A  pamphlet  had 
been  issued  only  a  short  time  previous,  entitled,  "  Kill 
ing  no  Murder,"  in  which  the  writer  boldly  asserted 
that  it  was  no  crime  to  slay  Cromwell.  The  Duke  of 
Ormond  had  entered  London  in  disguise,  and  was  con 
certing,  with  royalists  and  republicans  a  new  insur 
rection.     But  Oliver,  whose  police-system  nothing  could 


418  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

escape,  was  aware  of  his  presence;  yet,  instead  of 
hanging  him  on  the  gate-posts  of  the  city,  (as  he  would 
have  been  perfectly  justifiable  in  doing,)  he  quietly  told 
Lord  Broghil  to  advise  his  old  friend  to  depart.  Scot- 
land threatened  a  new  invasion ;  and  the  enemies  of 
the  Commonwealth,  elated  at  the  conduct  of  parliament, 
were  moving  on  every  side — and  every  day  was  big 
with  fears  and  perils.  Cromwell  stood  in  the  midst  of 
the  gathering  storm,  sad  and  thoughtful — his  noble  heart 
wrung  with  bitter  disappointment ;  yet,  high  and  reso- 
lute as  ever.  He  had  once  said,  that  he  would  be 
rolled  into  his  grave,  sooner  than  see  the  government 
of  the  Commonwealth  overthrown  ;  and  to  that  de- 
termination he  still  inflexibly  held.  No  one  knows  the 
wakeful  nights  and  anxious  days  he  passed,  while  every- 
thing trembled  on  the  brink  of  ruin — reluctant  again  to 
use  his  powder  arbitrarily.  But,  at  length,  impelled  by 
the  momentarily  increasing  danger,  he  roused  himself 
to  the  effort ;  and  suddenly  snatching  up  his  hat,  and 
waving  his  hand  to  a  few  of  his  guards — without  wait- 
ing for  his  carriage — flung  himself  into  a  hack,  and 
drove  to  the  House  of  Lords.  Assembling  there  the 
lower  House,  he  addressed  them  both  together,  in  that 
brief  and  impressive  manner  in  which  he  always  spoke 
when  highly  excited.  Said  he,  "  My  lords,  and  gentle- 
men of  the  House  of  Commons,  I  had  a  very  com- 
fortable expectation,  that  God  would  make  the  meeting 
of  this  parliament  a  blessing;  and  the  Lord  be  my 
witness,  /  desired  the  carrying  on  the  affairs  of  the 
nation  to  these  ends.     The  blessing  which  I  mean,  and 


1658.]  HIS    LAST    SPEECH.  419 

which  we  ever  climbed  at,  was  mercy,  truth,  right- 
eousness, and  peace — which  I  desired  might  be  improved. 
That  which  brought  me  into  the  capacity  I  now  stand 
in,  was  the  "  Petition  and  Advice,"  given  me  by  you ; 
who,  in  reference  to  the  present  constitution,  did  draw 
me  to  accept  the  place  of  Protector.  There  is  not  a 
man  living  could  say  I  sought  it — no,  not  a  man  or 
woman  treading  upon  English  ground.  But,  con- 
templating the  sad  condition  of  these  nations,  relieved 
from  an  intestine  war,  into  a  six  or  seven  years  peace, 
I  did  think  the  nation  happy  therein.  But,  to  be 
petitioned  thereunto,  and  advised  by  you  to  undertake 
such  a  government — a  burden  too  heavy  for  any  crea- 
ture, and  this  to  be  done  by  the  House  that  then  had 
the  legislative  capacity — certainly  I  did  look  that  the 
same  men  who  had  made  the  power,  should  make  it 
good  unto  me.  /  can  say,  in  the  presence  of  God,  in 
comparison  with  whom  we  are  hut  like  poor  creeping 
ants  upon  the  earth,  I  would  have  been  glad  to  have 
lived  under  my  woodside,  to  have  kept  a  flock  of  sheep, 
rather  than  undertaken  such  a  government  as  this." 

What  a  mixture  of  noble  melancholy,  and  firm  pur- 
pose, is  exhibited  in  these  sentences !  Every  word  car- 
ries conviction  of  sincerity.  He  speaks  as  he  feels; 
and  bearing  down  everything  by  the  simple  majesty  of 
truth,  awakens  all  our  sympathy,  while  he  claims  our 
unbounded  admiration. 

After  thus  relieving  his  heart,  he  went  on  to  speak  of 
the  dangers  that  threatened  the  government : — an  inva- 
sion, he  said,  was  in  preparation — a  conspiracy,  in  that 


420  O  L  I  V  E  R     C  R  O  M  W  E  L  L  . 

very  city,  was  all  ripe  for  an  outbreak ;  nay,  he  declared 
that  honorable  members  were  endeavoring  to  seduce  the 
army  from  its  allegiance ;  and  wound  up  with  the  terrible 
accusation — "  Some  of  you  have  been  listing  of  per- 
sons, hy  commission  of  Charles  Stuart,  to  join  with 
any  insurrection  that  may  he  made.  And,  what  is 
like  to  come  of  this,  the  enemy  being  ready  to  invade 
us,  but  ever  present  blood  and  confusion  ?  And,  if 
this  be  so,  I  do  assign  it  to  this  cause — your  not  assent- 
ing to  what  you  did  invite  me  to  by  your  Petition  and 
Advice,  as  that  which  might  prove  the  settlement  of  the 
nation.  And  if  this  be  the  end  of  your  sitting,  and 
this  be  your  carriage,  I  think  it  high  time  that  an  end 
be  put  to  your  sitting.  And  I  do  dissolve  this  parlia- 
ment. And  God  judge  beetween  me  and  you."  "Amen !" 
fell  from  the  lips  of  some  of  the  most  desperate ;  and 
this  last  Protectorate  parliament  disappeared.  "  It  was 
high  time ;"  for  Samuel  Hartlib,  a  friend  of  Milton,  in 
writing  to  a  friend,  says,  "If  their  session  had  continued 
but  two  or  three  days  longer,  all  had  been  in  blood,  both 
in  city  and  country,  upon  Charles  Stuart's  account.'' 

Here  was  another  "  act  of  despotism ;"  but  one,  if 
he  had  not  committed,  he  would  have  broken  his  solemn 
oath,  and  showed  that  he  cared  more  for  his  own  repu- 
tation, than  for  the  common  weal.  "Let  God  judge  be- 
tween YOU  AND  ME,"  he  cxclaimcd  ;  and,  he  might  add, 
between  me  and  my  accusers  to  the  end  of  time,  and 
ir.  the  judgment  of  the  Great  Day. 

No  sooner  was  this  parliament  dissolved,  than  he 
commenced  arresting  the  ringleaders  of  the  conspiracy. 


1658.]  PLOTS     AGAINST     HIS     LIFE.  421 

Summoning  his  followers  about  him,  he  explained  how 
matters  stood,  and  asked  if  they  would  permit  the 
enemies  of  the  Commonwealth  to  overthrow  it  ?  They 
answered,  "We  will  stand  and  fall  ivith  your  Highness 
— we  will  live  and  die  with  you."  A  hundred  and  sixty 
brave  fellows,  selected  from  his  different  regiments  of 
cavalry,  divided  into  eight  companies,  became  his  body- 
guard ;  ten  of  whom  were  always  on  duty  about  his 
person.  On  these  he  could  rely ;  and  unflinching  and 
bold  must  be  the  man,  and  quick  the  assassin's  knife,  that 
could  reach  him  then.  The  plotters  were  one  after 
another  thrown  into  prison,  and  a  High  Court  of  Justice 
nominated  to  try  offenders.  The  Protector  had  over- 
looked and  pardoned  long  enough ;  and  now  he  would 
show  assassins  what  kind  of  a  man  they  had  to  deal 
with :  Sir  Henry  Slingsby  and  Dr.  Hewet,  were  among 
the  first  arrested.  The  former,  a  prisoner  in  Hull,  and 
an  uncle  of  his  son-in-law,  Lord  Fauconberg,  had  been 
seducing  the  officers  into  a  betrayal  of  their  trust — the 
latter,  a  doctor  of  divinity,  had  desecrated  his  office,  by 
mingling  in  the  plots  of  murderers. 

Thus  passed  the  early  spring.  On  the  15th  of  May, 
the  royalists  had  resolved  to  rise  in  London,  with  beat 
of  drum,  and  burn  and  slay ;  but  Cromwell,  who  had 
known  all  their  proceedings  from  the  beginning,  ordered 
his  troops  to  seize  them  just  on  the  verge  of  the  ap- 
pointed hour.  Ten  days  after,  Slingsby  and  Hewet, 
with  three  others,  were  tried.  The  two  former,  in 
spite  of  the  strenuous  exertions  made  by  their  friends, 
were  condemned,  and  perished  on  the  scaffold.     He 


422  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

thus  smote  the  monster  insurrection,  with  blow  after 
blow;  and,  by  June,  peace  was  restored.  Royalism 
had  sunk  affrighted ;  and  Levellers  and  Fifth  Monarchy 
men,  betook  themselves  to  silence. 

At  this  time,  also,  came  the  news  of  the  taking  of 
Dunkirk — of  the  glorious  battle  fought  with  the  Spanish 
army,  fifteen  thousand  strong,  sent  to  relieve  it — and 
of  the  resolute  daring  of  the  six  thousand  British  troops 
that  alone  gained  the  victory.  Great  rejoicings  fol- 
lowed ;  and  England  and  France  stood  linked  in  closer 
brotherhood. 

CROMWELL'S    SICKNESS    AND    DEATH. 

The  summer  which  witnessed  his  triumph  at  home 
and  abroad  witnessed,  also,  the  final  wreck  of  the 
iron  frame  of  Oliver  Cromwell.  Inured  by  a  life  of 
exposure  and  toil,  his  natural  strength  had  been  increased, 
and  he  bid  fair  to  reach  even  beyond  the  allotted  age 
of  man.  But  his  constant  anxieties  and  uneasiness 
made  deeper  inroads  than  the  most  arduous  campaign  ; 
and  for  some  time  he  had  been  evidently  failing.  To 
add  to  his  misery,  and  complete  the  ruin  of  his  health, 
family  afflictions  came  in  rapid  succession  and  bore 
him  to  the  earth.  A  few  days  after  the  dissolution  of 
parUament,  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Rich,  died,  leaving  his 
daughter  Frances  a  widow.  The  Earl  of  Warwick, 
his  grandfather,  followed  him  next  month  ;  and  while 
the  country  was  ringing  with  the  brave  deeds  of 
the   army    around    Dunkirk,   the    Lady   Ciaypole,   his 


1658]  HIS     SICKNESS     AND     DEATH.  423 

favorite  daughter,  was  taken  sick  with  a  fatal  and  most 
painful  disease.  The  Protector  was  forgotten  in  the 
father;  and  hurrying  to  Hampton  Court,  he  took  his 
place  by  her  bed-side,  overwhelmed  with  sorrow.  Her 
convulsions,  and  cries  of  distress,  tore  his  heart-strings 
asunder,  and  shook  that  strong  and  affectionate  nature 
to  its  foundations.  His  kingdom,  his  power,  the  Com- 
monwealth, were  all  forgotten ;  and  for  fourteen  days 
he  bent  over  his  beloved  child,  until,  at  length,  his 
over-tasked  frame  gave  way.  On  the  6th  of  August 
she  died ;  and  Cromwell,  on  his  bed  of  sickness,  was 
told  the  heart-breaking  news.  Beautiful,  and  beloved 
by  all,  she  had  just  entered  on  life  and  its  joys,  when 
she  was  hurried  away.  Her  noble  father  was  soon  to 
follow.  He  rallied  a  little  at  first,  and  was  able,  one 
day,  to  ride  out  to  take  the  air ;  but  he  returned  ex- 
hausted to  his  palace.  It  was  the  last  time  that  form 
was  ever  seen  amid  his  life-guards ;  and  the  "  waft  of 
death,"  which  George  Fox  said  he  saw  "go  forth 
against  him  there,"  any  one  might  have  seen  who  had 
gazed  on  his  pallid  face.  Disease  and  sorrow  striking 
together,  had  reached  the  citadel  of  life. 

On  the  24th,  he  again  took  to  his  room,  prostrated  by 
what  w^as  then  called  a  tertian  ague.  On  hearing  his 
physician  pronounce  his  pulse  intermittent,  he  started  ; 
and  requesting  to  be  placed  in  bed,  called  for  pen  and 
paper,  and  executed  his  last  instructions.  The  next 
morning,  he  was  better ;  and  taking  his  wife  by  the 
hand,  bade  her  not  be  alarmed,  as  he  should  yet  recover. 
He  believed  and  said,  that  the  prayers  of  God's  children 


424  OLIVER     CROMWELL 

would  prevail,  and  he  would  be  spared.  Being  moved, 
for  change  of  air,  to  Whitehall,  he  continued  to  grow 
worse ;  the  fever  became  a  double  tertian,  and  the 
chills  and  fever  frequent  and  prostrating.  Delirium 
followed ;  but  in  the  intervals  of  reason,  he  was  calm 
and  collected.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  he  requested 
the  chaplain  to  read  from  the  Epistle  of  Paul  to  the 
Philippians,  the  passage  beginning,  "  Not  that  I  speak 
in  respect  of  want,  for  I  have  learned  in  whatever  state 
I  am,  therewith  to  be  content.  I  can  do  all  things, 
through  Christ  which  strengtheneth  me.  Notwith- 
standing, ye  have  \vell  done  that  ye  did  communicate 
with  my  afflictions."  Here,  Cromw^ell  intermpted  him, 
murmuring  in  broken  accents  :  "  This  sanpture  did 
once  save  my  life,  when  my  eldest  son  died,  which  went 
like  a  dagger  to  my  heart — indeed,  it  did''  Where 
he  died  ;  in  what  battle  he  fell,  no  one  knows  ;  but 
here,  on  the  verge  of  the  eternal  world,  the  long 
pent-up  sorrow^  bursts  forth ;  and  the  dying  father 
mourns,  in  heart-broken  grief,  over  his  brave  son,  cut 
down  in  the  morning  of  life  by  his  side.  He  then  asked 
if  it  was  possible  to  fall  from  a  state  of  grace.  On  being 
told  that  it  w^as  not,  he  was  satisfied.  Doubtless,  the 
struggles,  and  anxieties,  and  constant  occupation  of  his 
thoughts  by  public  matters  had  driven  him,  of  late,  from 
those  spiritual  contemplations  he  formerly  delighted  in ; 
and  hence,  he  now  referred  to  them  with  joy  and  hope. 
Continuing  to  grow  worse,  he  was  asked  to  name  his 
successor.  He  referred  them  to  a  sealed  paper  in 
Hampton  Couit,  drawn  up  a  year  ago.     It  was  imme- 


1658.]  HIS     LAST     HOURS.  425 

diately  sent  for,  but  could  not  be  found  ;  and  not  until 
the  night  before  his  death,  was  he  heard  to  name 
Richard.  In  the  intervals  of  his  suifering,  he  spoke 
incessantly  of  the  goodness  of  God ;  and  forgetting  him- 
self in  his  anxiety  for  the  church,  prayed:  "Lord, 
though  I  am  a  miserable  and  wretched  creature,  I  am 
in  covenant  with  Thee  through  grace.  And  I  may — I 
will  come  to  thee  for  Thy  people.  Thou  hast  made  me, 
though  very  unworthy,  a  mean  instrument  to  do  them 
good  and  Thee  service  :  and  many  of  them  have  set  too 
high  a  value  upon  me,  though  others  would  wish  and 
would  be  glad  of  my  death :  Lord,  however  Thou  dost 
dispose  of  me,  continue  to  go  on  and  do  good  for  them. 
Give  them  consistency  of  judgment,  one  heart,  and 
mutual  love ;  and  go  on  to  deliver  them,  and  with  the 
work  of  reformation;  and  make  the  name  of  Christ 
glorious  in  the  world.  Teach  those  who  look  too  much 
on  Thy  instruments,  to  depend  more  upon  Thyself 
Pardon  such  as  desire  to  trample  upon  the  dust  of  a 
poor  worm,  for  they  are  Thy  people,  too.  And  pardon 
the  folly  of  this  short  prayer :  even  for  Christ's  sake. 
And  give  us  a  good  night,  if  it  be  Thy  pleasure.  Amen." 
At  length  the  last  night  drew  on  that  was  to  usher  in  his 
fortunate  day.  The  3d  of  September,  the  anniversary 
of  Dunbar,  and  of  Marston,  came  amid  wind  and  storm. 
In  this  solemn  hour  for  England,  strong  hearts  were 
everywhere  beseeching  heaven  to  spare  the  Protector  : 
but  the  King  of  Kings  had  issued  his  decree ;  and  the 
spirit  that  had  endured  and  toiled  so  long,  was  already 
gathering  its  pinions  for  eternity.     "  It  is  a  fearful  thing 


426  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Hving  God,"  broke  thence 
from  his  pallid  lips,  and  then  he  fell,  in  solemn  faith  on 
the  covenant  of  grace.  His  breath  came  difficult  and 
thick ;  but  amid  the  pauses  of  the  storm,  he  v^^as  heard 
murmuring,  "  Truly  God  is  good ;  indeed  He  is ;  He  v^^ill 

not "  his  tongue  failed  him  ;  "but,  says  an  eye-v^it- 

ness,*  "I  apprehend  it  was,  ^ He  will  not  leave  me.'" 
Again  and  again  there  escaped  from  the  ever-moving 
lips  the  half-articulate  words  "God  is  good — God  is 
good."  Once,  with  sudden  energy,  he  exclaimed,  "  1 
would  he  willing  to  live,  to  he  further  serviceable  to  God 
and  his  people ;  hut  my  work  is  done.  Yet  God  will  he 
with  his  people."  All  night  long,  he  murmured  thus  to 
himself  of  God  ;  showing  how  perfect  was  his  trust — 
how  strong  his  faith.  Once,  as  some  drink  was  oifered 
him,  he  said,  "  It  is  not  my  design  to  drink  or  to  sleep ; 
but  my  design  is  to  make  what  haste  I  can  to  be  gone.'' 
While  this  scene  was  passing  in  that  solemn  cham- 
ber, all  was  wild  and  terrible  without.  Nature  seemed 
to  sympathize  with  the  dying  patriot  and  hero.  The 
wind  howled  and  roared  around  the  palace ;  houses 
were  unroofed  ;  chimneys  blown  down ;  and  trees,  that 
had  stood  for  half  a  century  in  the  parks,  were  uptorn, 
and  strewn  over  the  earth.  The  sea,  too,  was  vexed — 
the  waves  smote,  in  ungovernable  fury,  the  shores  of 
England  ;  and  vessels  lay  stranded  along  the  coasts  of 
th«  Mediterranean.     It  was  a  night  when  there  are, 

"  As  they  say, 
Lamentmgs  heard  i'  the  air ;  strange  screams  of  death. 

*  Underwood. 


1658.]  HIS     DEATH.  427 

And  prophesying,  with  accents  terrible 
Of  dire  commotion,  and  confused  events 
Now  hatched  to  the  woeful  time.  *     * 
*     *     *     *  some  say  the  earth 

Was  feverous  and  did  shake.-' 

But  all  was  calm  and  serene  around  the  dying  bed 
of  Cromwell.  On  that  more  than  kingly  brow,  peace, 
like  a  white  winged  dove,  sate  ;  and  that  voice  which 
had  turned  the  tide  of  so  many  battles,  now  murmur- 
ed only  prayers.  Bonaparte,  dying  in  the  midst  of 
just  such  a  storm,  shouted,  "  Tete  d'armee,"  as  his  glaz- 
ing eye  fell  once  more  on  the  heads  of  his  mighty 
columns  disappearing  in  the  smoke  of  battle;  but 
Cromwell  took  a  noble  departure.  The  storm  and 
uproar  without,  brought  no  din  of  arms  to  his  dying 
ear — not  in  the  delirium  of  battle  did  his  soul  burst 
away ;  but,  with  his  eye  fixed  steadfastly  on  the  "  eter- 
nal kingdoms,"  and  his  strong  heart  sweetly  stayed  on 
the  promise  of  a  faithful  God,  he  moved  from  the  shore 
of  time,  and  sank  from  sight  for  ever. 

He  died  at  three  o'clock  that  day — on  the  very  day, 
which,  eight  years  before,  saw  his  sword  flashing  over 
the  tumultuous  field  of  Dunbar — the  same  which,  seven 
years  previous,  heard  him  shouting  on  the  ramparts  of 
Worcester.  But  this  was  the  last  and  most  terrible 
battle  of  all ;  yet  he  came  off  victorious ;  and  triumph- 
ing over  his  last  enemy,  death,  passed  into  that  serene 
world,  where  the  sound  of  battle  never  comes,  and  the 
hatred  and  violence  of  men  never  disturb. 

Thus  perished  Cromwell  in  his  fifty-ninth  year ;  and 


428  OLIVER      CROMWELL. 

those  who  stood  and  gazed  on  the  motionless  features, 
and  palUd  lips,  whose  slightest  motion  so  lately  made 
nations  tremble,  exclaimed,  "A  great  man  is  fallen  in 
Israel!" — ah,  the  noblest  ruler  that  ever  filled  an  Eng- 
hsh  throne.  With  him  sunk  for  a  time  the  Protestant- 
ism of  England ;  and  Popery  and  royalty  breathed  free 
again.  But  the  principles  he  established  remained  im- 
movable ;  and  finally,  thirty  years  after,  drove  the  last 
Stuart  out  of  the  British  empire.  They  burst  into  new 
life  in  this  country,  and  are  now  scattered  like  good 
seed  over  Europe,  where  they  have  ever  since  been 
taking  root ;  and  will,  eventually,  bring  forth  the  fruit 
of  universal  liberty. 

His  body,  embalmed,  and  wrapt  in  a  sheet  of  lead, 
lay  concealed  from  public  gaze,  until  the  26th  of 
September,  when  it  was  removed  to  Somerset  House, 
where  it  remained  in  state  till  the  23d  of  November. 
The  most  imposing  ceremonies  honored  his  burial ;  and 
he  was  carried  in  all  "  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of 
woe,"  to  Westminster  Abbey,  where  he  lay  in  peace, 
till  a  Stuart  dug  up  his  bones,  and  hung  them  on  a 
gallows — the  lowest  revenge  of  an  ingoble  soul. 

Richard,  too  weak  to  rule,  no  sooner  found  the 
movement  against  him  strong,  than  he  resigned  his 
Protectorate;  and  Charles  II.,  "king  by  the  grace  of 
God,"  ascended  the  throne,  and  turned  his  court  into  a 
brothel,  and  sunk  England  in  vice  and  corruption. 
Mistresses  directed  the  affairs  of  State;  and  those  whe 
had  struggled  so  nobly  for  the  liberty  of  their  country, 
were  tried,  imprisoned,  and  executed. 


1658.]  HIS     CHARACTER.  429 

We  have  endeavored  to  exhibit  the  character  of 
Cromwell  in  passing — let  events  illustrate  him,  rather 
than  theories.  That  he  was  a  man  of  great  contra- 
dictions, no  one  can  doubt.  To-day,  stern,  cold,  and 
inflexible — to-morrow,  kind,  tender,  and  almost  melan- 
choly— at  one  moment  solemn,  devout,  given  to  prayer 
and  exhortation — at  another,  boisterous,  excited,  and 
full  of  practical  jokes — now  frolicking  with  a  coarse 
trooper,  and  now  awing  kings  by  his  haughty  frown — a 
cool  commander,  and  fiery  enthusiast ;  he  moves,  as- 
tonishes, and  alarms  us  by  turns.  His  boisterous  laugh 
around  the  camp  fire  has  hardly  died  away,  before  his 
earnest,  thrilling  prayer  chains  every  ear  and  kindles 
every  eye.  He  will  storm  like  a  madman  through  the 
breach  of  Drogheda,  and  shout  his  followers  on  in  their 
work  of  slaughter;  and  yet  bursts  into  an  agony  of 
tears  over  the  sufferings  of  the  children  of  God  in  the 
mountains  of  Piedmont. 

There  is  a  striking  similarity  between  his  career  and 
that  of  Bonaparte.  Both  claimed  gentle  blood,  yet  both, 
in  reality,  belonged  to  the  middle  class.  Both  owed  their 
elevation  to  their  military  prowess,  and  gradually  fought 
their  way  up  from  a  subordinate  capacity,  to  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  army.  Cromwell,  finding  the 
government  unequal  to  the  wants  of  the  nation,  broke  it 
up  by  his  musketeers ;  Bonaparte,  discovering  the  same 
thing  in  France,  dispersed  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred 
with  his  grenadiers.  The  former  mounted  to  the  place 
of  Charles  I.  and  the  latter  to  that  of  Louis  XVI.  They 
were  both  regarded  as  plebeians  by  the  monarchs  of 


430  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

Europe ;  yet  no  sovereign  vs^ith  the  blood  of  a  thousand 
kings  in  his  veins,  ever  v^ielded  a  sceptre  so  pov^^erful, 
or  commanded  such  unbounded  respect  and  fear,  as 
they.  But  here  the  similarity  ends.  Bonaparte  no 
sooner  gained  supreme  power,  than  he  endeavored  to 
consolidate  and  perpetuate  it,  while  Cromwell  used  his 
solely  to  give  strength  to  the  government ;  and  yielded  it 
up  as  fast  as  he  could  with  safety.  Napoleon  felt  that 
France  was  safest  in  his  keeping,  and  seemed  not  to 
think  of  the  future.  But  Oliver,  more  thoughtful  and 
conscientious,  contemplated  the  generations  to  come, 
and  labored  to  settle,  before  he  died,  the  principles  of 
liberty,  in  the  nation.  He  removed  the  major-generals, 
as  soon  as  it  could  be  done  w^ithout  danger — grew  less 
and  less  severe  towards  other  sects — equalized  the  repre- 
sentation in  England,  as  it  never  before  had  been  done 
— transferred  his  authority  to  parliament,  without  re- 
serving to  himself  even  the  veto  power,  and  became 
more  and  more  liberal  and  tolerant  the  firmer  he  be- 
came fixed  in  his  place. 

His  administration,  is  now  generally  conceded  to 
have  been  one  of  the  ablest  with  which  England  was 
ever  blessed.  He  fostered  institutions  of  learning — 
gave  free  scope  to  every  branch  of  industry,  and  raised 
the  legal  profession  higher  than  it  had  ever  before 
stood. 

In  the  revival  of  commerce — by  his  conquests  in  the 
West  Indies,  and  the  triumph  of  his  fleets  everywhere — • 
he  established  the  maritime  ascendency  of  England  ; 
and  in  the  management  of  affairs  at  home  and  abroad, 


1658.]  ^  HIS     CHARACTER.  431 

exhibited  a  grasp  of  thought,  and  a  practical  power, 
combined  with  an  earnestness  and  purity  of  purpose, 
which  England  may  in  vain  look  for  in  any  other 
sovereign.  Had  he  lived  longer,  so  as  to  have  consoli- 
dated the  government,  and  seen  most  of  his  restless 
contemporaries  safe  under  ground,  or  even  left  a  son 
but  half  equal  to  himself,  the  destiny  of  England  would 
have  been  different,  and  its  after  history,  very  possibly, 
that  of  a  republic. 

Of  his  religious  character  we  have  already  spoken. 
No  one  can  read  his  letters  without  believing  in  his 
sincerty.  The  purity  of  God's  Church  on  earth,  was 
ever  uppermost  in  his  mind;  and  he  strove  to  give 
Christianity  that  prominence  in  the  nation  it  ought  to 
hold,  and  must  hold,  to  secure  continued  prosperity. 
Protestantism  never  had  an  abler  or  nobler  cham- 
pion. True,  there  was  a  great  deal  of  cant  in  the  re- 
ligion of  those  times — probably  there  never  was  such  a 
mixture  of  hypocrisy  and  sincerity,  fanaticism  and  true 
godliness,  as  under  the  Commonwealth  of  England. 
When  all  were  more  or  less  affected  by  the  spirit  that 
was  abroad,  and  men  talked  in  Bible  language,  and 
troopers  preached  and  prayed  with  each  other,  and  par- 
liament itself  was  frequently  turned  into  a  prayer- 
meeting,  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  Cromwell  should 
be  free  from  religious  peculiarities.  Probably  one  cause 
of  the  great  influence  he  obtained  over  the  soldiers, 
was  the  strong,  religious  excitement,  that,  at  times, 
mastered  him,  and  caused  him  to  make  those  wild  and 
stirring  appeals  which  wrought  them  into  such  enthu- 


432  OLIVER     CROMWELL. 

siasm.  Frequently,  just  before  an  engagement,  his 
eye  would  kindle,  and  his  countenance  light  up  with 
prophetic  fire,  and  the  words  of  Isaiah  or  David  roll  in 
tremulous  accents  from  his  quivering  lips,  till  every 
sword  leaped  from  its  scabbard. 

In  these  respects,  he  was  unlike  all  other  military 
leaders  of  modern  times.  He  sung  psalms  when  he  went 
into  battle,  and  consulted  the  Bible  in  his  campaigns  as 
much  as  his  maps,  and  quoted  Scripture  to  parliament 
— all  of  which  may  seem  very  weak  in  our  day ;  but 
they  detracted  nothing  from  the  strength  and  majesty 
of  Cromwell's  character.  A  strong,  sincere,  and  re- 
ligious man — a  Christian  of  Moses'  time,  if  we  may 
use  the  term,  rather  than  of  ours — who  read  the  Old 
Testament  much,  and  the  Gospel  httle;  pondered  the 
dispensation  of  law,  more  than  that  of  grace;  under- 
stood the  lofty  language  of  David,  better  than  the  meek 
words  of  John;  loved  the  commandments  more  than 
the  beatitudes — a  fierce  fighter,  a  good  ruler,  and  a  stern 
patriot,  was  Oliver  Cromwell.  He  is  outliving  his  tra- 
ducers ;  and  will  be  honored  by  man  long  after  thrones 
have  been  cast  aside  as  useless  things. 

He  had  his  faults  and  committed  many  errors  ;  but, 
as  Carlyle  says,  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  career 
he  was  forced  into  w^as  anything  but  "dancing  a 
minuet." 


APPENDIX. 


No.  1. 

Petition  of  Right. — Humbly  show  unto  our  sovereign  lord  the 
king,  the  lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  and  commons,  in  parlia- 
ment assembled,  That,  whereas  it  is  declared  and  enacted  by  a 
statute  made  in  the  time  of  the  reign  of  king  Edward  I.  commonly 
called  Statutum  de  tallagio  nan  concedendo,  that  no  tallage  or  aid 
shall  be  levied  by  the  king  or  his  heirs  in  this  realm,  without  the 
good-will  and  assent  of  the  archbishops,  bishops,  earls,  barons, 
knights,  burgesses,  and  other  the  freemen  of  the  commonalty  of 
this  realm;  and,  by  authority  of  parliament,  holden  in  the  five 
and  twentieth  year  of  the  reign  of  king  Edward  III.  it  is  de- 
clared and  enacted,  That,  from  thenceforth,  no  person  shall  be 
compelled  to  make  any  loans  to  the  king  against  his  will,  because 
such  loans  were  against  reason,  and  the  franchise  of  the  land  : 
and,  by  other  laws  of  this  realm,  it  is  provided,  that  none  should 
be  charged  by  any  charge  or  imposition  called  a  benevolence,  or 
by  such  like  charge  :  by  which  the  statutes  before-mentioned, 
and  other  the  good  laws  and  statutes  of  this  realm,  your  subjects 
have  inherited  this  freedom,  that  they  should  not  be  compelled  to 
contribute  to  any  tax,  tallage,  aid,  or  other  like  charge,  not  set  by 
common  consent  in  parliament. 

II.  %et  nevertheless,  of  late  divers  commissions  directed  to 
sundry  commissioners  in  several  counties,  with  instructions,  have 
issued  ;  by  means  whereof  your  people  have  been  in  divers  places 
assembled,  and  required  to  lend  certain  sums  of  money  unto  your 
majesty,  and  many  of  them,  upon  their  refusal  so  to  do,  have  had 
an  oatk  administered  unto  them  not  warrantable  by  the  laws  oi 
statutes  of  this  realm,  and  have  been  constrained  to  become  t^cLT/d 
to  make  appearance  and  give  attendance  before  your  privy  cctincil, 
and  in  other  places :  and  others  of  them  have  been  therefore  im- 
prisoned, connned,  and  sundry  other  ways  molested  and  disquieted ; 
and  divers  other  charges  have  been  laid  and  levied  upon  your 
people,  in  several  counties,  by  lord-lieutenants,  deputy.lieutenants, 
19 


fre 


434  APPENDIX. 

commissioners  for  musters,  justices  of  peace,  and  others,  by  com 
mand  or  direction  from  your  majesty,  or  your  privy-council, 
against  the  laws  and  free  customs  of  this  realm. 

III.  And  whereas  also,  by  the  statute  called   The  great  charter 
the  liberties  of  England,  it  is  declared  and  enacted,  That  no 

eeman  may  be  taken  or  imprisoned,  or  be  disseized  of  his  free- 
hold or  liberties,  or  his  free  customs,  or  be  outlawed  or  exiled,  or 
in  any  manner  destroyed,  but  by  the  lawful  judgment  of  his  peers, 
or  by  the  law  of  the  land.. 

IV.  And,  in  the  eighth  and  twentieth  year  of  the  reign  of  king 
Edward  III.  it  was  declared  and  enacted,  by  authority  of  parlia- 
ment. That  no  man,  of  what  estate  or  condition  that  he  be,  should 
be  put  out  of  his  land  or  tenements,  nor  taken,  nor  imprisoned, 
nor  disinherited,  nor  put  to  death,  without  being  brought  to 
answer  by  due  process  of  law. 

V.  Nevertheless,  against  the  tenor  of  the  said  statutes,  and 
other  the  good  laws  and  statutes  of  your  realm  to  that  end  provi- 
ded, divers  of  your  subjects  have  of  late  been  imprisoned  without 
any  cause  showed ;  and,  when,  for  their  deliverance,  they  were 
brought  before  justice,  by  your  majesty's  writs  of  Habeas  Corpus^ 
there  to  undergo,  and  receive  as  the  court  should  order,  and  their 
keepers  commanded  to  certify  the  causes  of  their  detainer,  no 
cause  was  certified,  but  that  they  w^ere  detained  by  your  majesty's 
special  command,  signified  by  the  lords  of  your  privy-council,  and 
yet  were  returned  back  to  several  prisons,  without  being  charged 
with  anything  to  which  they  might  make  answer  according  to  the 
law. 

VI.  And  whereas  of  late  great  companies  of  soldiers  and  mari- 
ners have  been  dispersed  into  divers  counties  of  the  realm,  and  the 
inhabitants,  against  their  wills,  have  been  compelled  to  receive 
them  into  their  houses,  and  there  to  suffer  them  to  sojourn,  against 
the  laws  and  customs  of  this  realm,  and  to  the  great  grievance  and 
vexation  of  the  people. 

VII.  And  whereas  also,  by  authority  of  parliament,  in  the  five 
and  twentieth  year  of  the  reign  of  king  Edward  III.  it  is  declared 
and  enacted.  That  no  man  shall  be  forejudged  of  life  or  limb 
against  the  form  of  the  Great  Charter  and  law  of  the  land  :  and, 
by  the  said  G-reat  Charter^  and  other  the  laws  and  statutes  of  this 
your  realm,  no  man  ought  to  be  judged  to  death  but  by  the  laws 
established  in  this  your  realm,  either  by  the  customs  of  the  same 
realm,  or  by  acts  of  parliament :  and  whereas  no  offender,  of  what 
kind  soever,  is  exempted  from  the  proceedings  to  be  used,  and 
punishments  to  be  inflicted  by  the  laws  and  statutes  of  this  your 
realm :  nevertheless,  of  late  divers  commissions,  under  your 
majesty's  great  seal,  have  issued  forth,  by  which  certain  persons 
have  been  assigned  and  appointed  commissioners,  wMth  power  and 
authority  to  proceed  within  the  land,  according  to  the  justice  of 


APPENDIX.  435 

/nartial  law,  against  such  soHiers  and  mariners,  or  other  dissolute 
persons  joining  with  them,  as  should  commit  any  murther,  robbery, 
felony,  mutiny,  or  other  outrage  or  misdemeanor  whatsoever,  and 
by  such  summary  course  and  order  as  is  agreeable  to  martial  law, 
and  as  is  used  in  armies  in  time  of  war,  to  proceed  to  the  trial  and 
condemnation  of  such  offenders,  and  them  to  cause  to  be  executed 
and  put  to  death  according  to  the  law  martial. 

VIII.  By  pretext  whereof  some  of  your  majesty's  subjects  have 
been  by  some  of  the  said  commissioners  put  to  death,  when  and 
where,  if,  by  the  laws  and  statutes  of  the  land,  they  had  deserved 
death,  by  the  same  laws  and  statutes  also  they  might,  and  by  no 
other  ought,  to  have  been  judged  and  executed. 

IX.  And  also  sundry  grievous  offenders,  by  color  thereof  claim- 
ing an  exemption,  have  escaped  the  punishments  due  to  them  by 
the  laws  and  statutes  of  this  your  realm,  by  reason  that  divers  of 
your  officers  and  ministers  of  justice  have  unjustly  refused  or  for- 
borne to  proceed  against  such  offenders  according  to  the  same  laws 
and  statutes,  upon  pretence  that  the  said  offenders  were  punishable 
only  by  martial  law,  and  by  authority  of  such  commissions  as 
aforesaid :  which  commissions,  and  all  other  of  like  nature,  are 
wholly  and  directly  contrary  to  the  said  laws  and  statutes  of  this 
your  realm. 

X.  They  do  therefore  humbly  pray  your  most  excellent  majesty, 
That  no  man  hereafter  be  compelled  to  make  or  yield  any  gift,  loan, 
benevolence,  tax,  or  such  like  charge,  without  common  consent, 
by  act  of  parliament :  and  that  none  be  called  to  make  answer,  or 
take  such  oath,  or  to  give  attendance,  or  be  confined,  or  otherwise 
molested  or  disquieted,  concerning  the  same,  or  for  refusal  thereof : 
and  that  no  freeman,  in  any  such  manner  as  is  before-mentioned, 
be  imprisoned  or  detained :  and  that  your  majesty  would  be  pleased 
to  remove  the  said  soldiers  and  mariners,  and  that  people  may  not 
be  so  burthened  in  time  to  come  ;  and  that  the  aforesaid  commis- 
sions, for  proceeding  by  martial  law,  may  be  revoked  and  annul- 
led :  and  that  hereafter  no  commissions  of  like  nature  may  issue 
forth,  to  any  person  or  persons  whatsoever,  to  be  executed  as 
aforesaid,  lest,  by  color  of  them,  any  of  your  majesty's  subjects 
be  destroyed,  or  put  to  death,  contrary  to  the  laws  and  franchise 
of  the  land. 

XI.  All  which  they  most  humbly  pray  of  your  most  excellent 
majesty,  as  their  rights  and  liberties,  according  to  the  laws  and 
statutes  of  this  realm :  and  that  your  majesty  would  also  vouch- 
safe to  declare,  That  the  awards,  doings,  and  proceedings  to  the 
prejudice  of  your  people,  in  any  of  the  premises,  shall  not  be 
drawn  hereafter  into  consequence  or  example:  and  that  your 
majesty  would  be  also  graciously  pleased,  for  the  further  comfort 
and  safety  of  your  people,  to  declare  your  royal  will  and  pleasure, 
that  in  the  things  aforesaid,  all  your  officers  and  ministers  shall 


436  APPENDIX. 

serve  you  according  to  the  laws  and  statutes  of  this  realm,  as  they 
tender  the  honor  of  your  majesty,  and  the  prosperity  of  this 
kingdom. — Stat.  17  Car.  cap.  14. 


No.  2. 

It  was  in  these  words :  "  Whereas  Charles  Stuart,  king  of 
England,  is  and  standeth  convicted,  attainted,  and  condemned  of 
high  treason  and  other  high  crimes ;  and  sentence  upon  Saturday 
last  was  pronounced  against  him  by  this  court,  to  be  put  to  death 
by  the  severing  of  his  head  from  his  body,  of  which  sentence 
execution  yet  remaineth  to  be  done.  These  are,  therefore,  to  will 
and  require  you  to  see  the  said  sentence  executed  in  the  open 
street,  before  Whitehall,  upon  the  morrow,  being  the  30th  day  of 
this  instant  month  of  January,  between  the  hours  of  ten  in  the 
morning  and  five  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  with  full  effect. 
And  for  so  doing  this  shall  be  your  sufficient  warrant.  And  these 
are  to  require  all  officers,  soldiers,  and  others,  the  good  people  of 
this  nation  of  England,  to  be  assisting  unto  you  in  this  service. 


No.  3. 

*'To  Col.  Francis  Hacker,  Col.  Huncks,  and  Lieut.  Col.  Phray, 
and  to  every  of  them. 

"  Given  under  our  hands  and  seals. 
(Sealed  and  subscribed  by) 

"John  Bradshaw,  Thomas  Grey,  Oliver  Cromwell,  Edward 
Whaley,  Michael  Livesey,  John  Okey,  John  Danvers,  John 
Bourcher,  Henry  Ireton,  Thomas  Maleverer,  John  Blackiston, 
John  Hutchinson,  William  Gofie,  Thomas  Pride,  Peter  Temple, 
Thomas  Harrison,  John  Huson,  Henry  Smith,  Peregrine  Pelham, 
Simon  Meyn,  Thomas  Horton,  John  Jones,  John  More,  Hardress 
Waller,  Gilbert  Millington,  George  Fleetwood,  John  Alured, 
Robert  Lilburn,  William  Say,  Anthony  Stapely,  Richard  Deane, 
Robert  Tichburne,  Humphrey  Edwards,  Daniel  Blagrave,  Owen 
Roe,  William  Purefoy,  Adrian  Scroope,  James  Temple,  Augustine 
Garland,  Edmond  Ludlow,  Henry  Marten,  Vincent  Potter,  William 
Constable,  Richard  Ingoldsby,  William  Cawley,  John  Barstead, 
Isaac  Ewers,  John  Dixweil,  Valentine  Walton,  Gregory  Norton, 
Thomas  Chaloner,  Thomas  Wogan,  John  Ven,  Gregory  Clement, 
John  Downs,  Thomas  Wayte,  Thomas  Scot,  John  Carew,  Miles 
Corbet."— i2Ms/i.,vii.,  1426. 


APPENDIX.  437 

No.  4. 

The  following  is  the  letter,  together  with  the  Queries  addressed 
to  the  Scotch : 

For  the  Honorable  the  Governor  of  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh  :  These. 

Edinburgh,  9th  September,  1650. 

Sir — The  kindness  offered  to  the  Ministers  with  you  was  done 
with  ingenuity ;  thinking  it  might  have  met  with  the  like ;  but  I 
am  satisfied  to  tell  those  with  you,  That  if  their  Master's  service 
(as  they  call  it)  were  chiefly  in  their  eye,  imagination  of  suffering 
would  not  have  caused  such  a  return  ;  much  less  "  would"  the 
practice  of  our  Party,  as  they  are  pleased  to  say,  upon  the  IMinis- 
ters  of  Christ  in  England,  have  been  an  argument  of  personal 
persecution. 

The  Ministers  in  England  are  supported,  and  have  liberty  to 
preach  the  Gospel :  though  not  to  rail,  nor  under  pretence  thereof 
to  overtop  the  Civil  Power,  or  debase  it  as  they  please.  No  man 
hath  been  troubled  in  England  or  Ireland  for  preaching  the  Gospel ; 
nor  has  any  jMinister  been  molested  in  Scotland  since  the  coming 
of  the  Army  hither.  The  speaking  truth  becomes  the  Ministers 
of  Christ. 

When  Ministers  pretend  to  a  glorious  Reformation  ;  and  lay  the 
foundation  thereof  in  getting  to  themselves  worldly  power  j  and 
can  make  worldly  mixtures  to  accomplish  the  same,  such  as  their 
late  Agreement  with  their  King ;  and  hope  by  him  to  carry  on 
their  design,  "they"  m.ay  know  that  the  Sion  promised  will  not  be 
built  of  such  untempered  mortar. 

As  for  the  unjust  Invasion  they  mention,  time  w^as  when  an 
Army  of  Scotland  came  into  England,  not  called  by  the  Supreme 
Authority.  We  have  said,  in  our  Papers,  with  what  hearts,  and 
upon  what  account,  we  came  ;  and  the  Lord  hath  heard  us,  though 
you  would  not,  upon  as  solemn  an  appeal  as  any  experience  can 
parallel . 

And  although  they  seem  to  comfort  themselves  with  being  sons 
of  Jacob,  from  whom  (they  say)  God  hath  hid  His  face  for  a  time; 
yet  it's  no  wonder  when  the  Lord  hath  lifted  up  His  hand  so  emi- 
nently against  a  Family  as  He  hath  done  so  often  against  this,  and 
men  will  not  see  His  hand — "it's  no  wonder"  if  the  Lord  hide  His 
face  from  such ;  putting  them  to  shame  both  for  it  and  their  hatred 
of  His  people;  as  it  is  this  day.  When  they  purely  trust  to  the 
Sword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  Word  of  God,  which  is  powerful 
to  bring  down  strongholds  and  every  imagination  that  exalts  itself 
— v.hich  alone  is  able  to  square  the  stones  for  a  new  Jerusalem  ; — 
then,  and  not  before,  and  by  that  means  and  no  other,  shall  Jerusa- 


438  APPENDIX. 

lem,  the  City  of  the  Lord,  which  is  to  be  the  praise  of  the  whole 
Earth,  be  built ;  the  Sion  of  the  Holy  One  of  Israel. 
I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you  but  that  I  am,  Sir, 

Your  humble  servant, 

Oliver  Cromwell. 

QUERIES. 

1.  Whether  the  Lord's  controversy  be  not  both  against  the  Minis- 
ters in  Scotland  and  in  England,  for  their  wresting  and  straining 
"  of  the  Covenant,"  and  employing  the  Covenant  against  the  Godly 
and  Saints  in  England  (of  the  same  faith  with  them  in  every  funda- 
mental) even  to  a  bitter  persecution ;  and  so  maknig  that  which, 
in  the  main  intention,  was  Spiritual,  to  serve  Politics  and  Carnal 
ends — even  in  that  part  especially  which  was  Spiritual,  and  did 
look  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  comfort  of  His  People  1 

2.  Whether  the  Lord's  controversy  be  not  for  your  and  the  Min- 
isters in  England's  sullenness  at  "  God's  great  providences,"  and 
"  your"  darkening  and  not  beholding  the  glory  of  God's  wonder- 
ful dispensations  in  this  series  of  His  providences  in  England, 
Scotland  and  Ireland,  both  now  and  formerly — through  envy  at  in- 
struments, and  because  the  things  did  not  work  forth  your  Plat- 
form, and  the  Great  God  did  not  come  down  to  your  minds  and 
thoughts. 

3.  Whether  your  carrying  on  a  Reformation,  so  much  by  you 
spoken  of,  have  not  probably  been  subject  to  some  mistakes  in 
your  own  judgments  about  some  parts  of  the  same — laying  so 
much  stress  thereupon  as  hath  been  a  temptation  to  you  even  to 
break  the  Law  of  Love,  "  the  greatest  of  all  laws,"  towards  your 
brethren,  and  those  "  whom"  Christ  hath  regenerated;  even  to  the 
reviling  and  persecuting  of  them,  and  to  stirring  up  of  wicked 
men  to  do  the  same,  for  your  Form's  sake,  or  but  "for"  some  parts 
of  it. 

4.  Whether  if  your  Reformation  be  so  perfect  and  so  spiritual, 
be  indeed  the  Kingdom  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  it  will  need  such  carnal 
policies,  such  fleshly  mixtures,  such  unsincere  actings  as  "  some 
of  these  are  '?"  To  pretend  to  cry  down  all  Malignants ;  and  yet 
to  receive  and  set  up  the  Head  of  them  "  all,"  and  to  act  for  the 
Kingdom  of  Christ  in  his  name,  and  upon  advantage  thereof  ?  And 
to  publish  so  false  a  Paper,  so  full  of  special  pretences  to  piety,  as 
the  fruit  and  effect  of  his  "  repentance" — to  deceive  the  minds  of 
all  the  Godly  in  England,  Ireland  and  Scotland ;  you,  in  your  own 
consciences,  knowing  with  what  regret  he  did  it,  and  with  what  im- 
portunities and  threats  he  was  brought  to  do  it,  and  how  much  to 
this  very  day  he  is  against  it  1  And  whether  this  be  not  a  high 
provocation  of  the  Lord,  in  so  grossly  dissembling  with  Him  and 
His  people  ? 


APPENDIX.  439 


No.  6. 


We  have  extracted  from  the  speech,  the  portion  devoted  to  an 
explanation  of  his  conduct. 

I  shall  now  begin  a  little  to  remind  you  of  the  passages  that 
have  been  transacted  since  Worcester.  Coming  from  whence, 
with  the  rest  of  my  fellow  Officers  and  Soldiers,  we  did  expect, 
and  had  some  reasonable  confidence  our  expectations  would  not  be 
frustrated,  That,  having  such  an  history  to  look  back  unto,  such  a 
God,  so  eminently  visible,  even  our  enemies  confessing  that  "  God 
Himself  was  certainly  engaged  against  them,  else  they  should  never 
have  been  disappointed  in  every  engagement," — and  that  may  be 
used  by  the  way.  That  if  we  had  but  miscarried  in  the  least,  all 
our  former  mercies  were  in  danger  to  be  lost : — T  say,  coming  up 
then,  we  had  some  confidence  That  the  mercies  God  had  shown, 
and  the  expectations  which  were  upon  our  hearts,  and  upon  the 
hearts  of  all  good  men,  would  have  prompted  those  who  were  in 
Authority  to  do  those  good  things  which  might,  by  honest  men, 
have  been  judged  fit  for  such  a  God,  and  worthy  of  such  mercies  j 
and  indeed  been  a  discharge  of  duty  from  those  to  whom  al)  these 
mercies  had  been  shown,  for  the  true  interest  of  this  Nation !  If  I 
should  now  labor  to  be  particular  in  enumerating  how  businesses 
have  been  transacted  from  that  time  to  the  Dissolution  of  the  late 
Parliament,  indeed  I  should  be  upon  a  theme  which  would  be 
troublesome  to  myself.  For  I  think  T  may  say  for  myself  and  my 
fellow  Officers,  That  we  have  rather  desired  and  studied  Healing  and 
Looking-forward  than  to  rake  into  sores  and  to  look  backward, — 
to  give  things  forth  in  those  colors  that  would  not  be  very  pleas- 
ing to  any  good  eye  to  look  upon.  Only  this  we  shall  say  for  our 
own  vindication,  as  pointing  out  the  ground  for  that  unavoidable 
necessity,  nay  even  that  duty  that  was  incumbent  upon  us,  to 
make  this  last  great  Change — I  think  it  will  not  be  amiss  to  offer  a 
word  or  two  to  that.  As  I  said  before,  we  are  loath  to  rake  into 
businesses,  were  there  not  a  necessity  so  to  do. 

Indeed  we  may  say  that,  ever  since  the  coming-up  of  myself 
and  those  Gentlemen  who  have  been  engaged  in  the  military  part, 
it  hath  been  full  in  our  hearts  and  thoughts,  to  desire  an4  use  all 
the  fair  and  lawful  means  we  could  to  have  the  Nation  reap  the 
fruit  of  all  the  blood  and  treasure  that  had  been  spent  in  this  Cause  : 
and  we  have  had  many  desires,  and  thirstings  in  our  spirits,  to  find 
out  ways  and  means  wherein  we  might  be  anywise  instrumental 
to  help  it  forward.  We  were  very  tender,  for  a  long  time,  so 
much  as  to  petition.  For  some  of  the  Officers  being  JVIembers; 
and  others  having  very  good  acquaintance  with,  and  some  relations 
to,  divers  Members  of  Parhament, — we  did,  from  time  to  time, 
solicit  such  ',  thinking  if  there  had  been  nobody  to  prompt  them, 


440  APPENDIX. 

nor  call  upon  them,  these  things  might  have  heen  attended  to, 
from  ingenuity  and  integrity  in  those  that  had  it  in  their  power  to 
answer  such  expectations. 

Truly  when  we  saw  nothing  would  he  done,  we  did,  as  we 
thought  according  to  our  duty,  a  little,  to  remind  them  hy  a  Peti- 
tion ;  which  I  suppose  you  have  seen  :  it  was  delivered,  as  I 
remember  in  August  last.  What  effect  that  had,  is  likewise  very 
well  known.  The  truth  is,  we  had  no  return  at  all  for  our  satis- 
faction,— a  few  words  given  us;  the  things. presented  by  us,  or  the 
most  of  them,  we  were  told,  *'  were  under  consideration ;"  and 
those  not  presented  by  us  had  very  little  or  no  consideration  at  all. 
Finding  the  People  dissatisfied  in  every  corner  of  the  Nation,  and 
"all  men"  laying  at  our  doors  the  non-performance  of  these  things, 
which  had  been  promised,  and  were  of  duty  to  be  performed, — 
truly  we  did  then  think  ourselves  concerned,  if  we  would  (as  be- 
comes honest  men)  keep  up  the  reputation  of  honest  men  in  the 
world.  And  therefore  we,  divers  times,  endeavored  to  obtain 
meetings  with  divers  Members  of  Parliament;  and  we  did  not 
begin  those  till  about  October  last.  And  in  these  meetings  we  did, 
with  al]  faithfulness  and  sincerity,  beseech  them  that  they  would 
be  mindful  of  their  duty  to  God  and  men,  in  the  discharge  of  the 
trust  reposed  in  them.  I  believe  (as  there  are  many  gentlemen 
here  know),  we  had  at  least  ten  or  twelve  meetings :  most  humbly 
begging  and  beseeching  of  them,  That  by  their  own  means  they 
would  bring  forth  those  good  things  which  had  been  promised  and 
expected ;  that  so  it  might  appear  they  did  not  do  them  by  any 
suggestion  from  the  Army,  but  from  their  own  ingenuity  :  so  ten- 
der were  we  to  preserve  them  in  the  reputation  of  the  People. 
Having  had  very  many  of  those  meetings :  and  declaring  plainly 
that  the  issue  would  be  the  displeasure  and  judgment  of  God,  the 
dissatisfaction  of  the  People,  the  putting  of  "ail"  things  into 
a  confusion :  yet  how  little  we  prevailed  we  very  well  know,  and 
we  believe  it's  not  unknown  to  you. 

At  last,  Avhen  indeed  we  saw  that  things  would  not  be  laid  to 
heart,  we  had  a  very  serious  consideration  among  ourselves  what 
other  ways  to  have  recourse  unto ;  and  when  we  grew  to  more 
closer  considerations,  then  they  "  the  Parliament  men"  began  to 
take  the  Act  for  a  Representative  to  heart,  and  seemed  exceeding 
willing  to  put  it  on.  And  had  it  been  done  with  integrity,  there 
could  nothing  have  happened  more  welcome  to  our  judgment  than 
that.  But  plainly  the  intention  was,  Not  to  give  ihe  People  a  right 
of  choice;  it  would  have  been  but  a  seeming  right;  that  "sem- 
blance" of  giving  them  a  choice  was  only  to  recruit  the  House,  the 
better  to  perpetuate  themselves.  And  truly,  having  been,  divers  of 
us,  spoken  unto  to  give  way  hereunto,  to  which  we  made  per- 
petual aversions,  indeed  abominating  the  thoughts  of  it — we 
declared  our  iudgments  against  it,  and  our  dissatisfaction  with  it. 


APPENDIX.  411 

And  yet  they  that  would  not  hear  of  a  Representative  formerly 
when  it  lay  three  years  before  them,  without  proceeding  one  line, 
or  making  any  considerable  progress, — I  say,  those  that  would  not 
hear  of  this  Bill  formerly,  did  now,  when  they  saw  us  falling  into 
more  closer  considerations,  make,  instead  of  protracting  their  Bill, 
as  much  prosperous  haste  with  it  on  the  other  side,  and  run  into 
that  "  opposite"'  extremity. 

Finding  that  this  spirit  was  not  according  to  God  •  and  that  the 
whole  weight  of  this  Cause — which  must  needs  be  very  dear  unto 
us  who  had  go  often  adventured  our  lives  for  it,  and  we  believe  it 
was  so  to  you — did  hang  upon  the  business  now  in  hand  ]  and 
seeing  plainly  that  there  was  not  here  any  consideration  to  assert 
this  Cause,  or  provide  security  for  lY,  but  only  to  cross  the  trouble- 
some people  of  the  Army,  w^ho  by  this  time  were  high  enough 
in  their  displeasures  :  Truly,  I  say,  when  we  saw  all  this,  having 
power  in  our  hands.  "  we  could  not  resolve"  to  let  such  monstrous 
proceedings  go  on,  and  so  to  throw  aw^ay  all  our  liberties  into  the 
hands  of  those  whom  we  had  fought  against :  we  came,  first,  to 
this  conclusion  among  ourselves.  That  if  we  had  been  fought  out 
of  our  liberties  and  rights,  Necessity  would  have  taught  us  pa- 
tience ;  but  that  to  deliver  them  "  sluggishly"  up  would  render  us  the 
basest  persons  in  the  world,  and  worthy  to  be  accounted  haters  of 
God  and  of  his  People.  When  it  pleased  God  to  lay  this  close  to 
our  hearts  •  and  indeed  to  show  us  that  the  interest  of  His  People 
was  ^rown  cheap,  "  that  it  was"  not  at  all  laid  to  heart,  but  that 
if  .thmgs  came  to  real  competition,  His  Cause,  even  among  them- 
selves, would  also  in  every  point  go  to  the  ground :  indeed  this 
did  add  more  considerations  to  us,  That  there  was  a  duty  incum- 
bent upon  us,  "  even  upon  us."  And — I  speak  here,  in  the 
presence  of  some  that  were  at  the  closure  of  our  consultations, 
and  as  before  the  Lord — the  thinking  of  an  act  of  violence  was  to 
us  worse  than  any  battle  that  ever  we  were  in,  or  that  could  be,  to 
the  utmost  hazard  of  our  lives  :  so  willing  were  we,  even  very 
tender  and  desirous  if  possible  that  these  men  might  quit  their 
places  with  honor. 

I  am  the  longer  upon  this ;  because  it  hath  been  in  our  own 
hearts  and  consciences,  justifying  us,  and  hath  never  been  yet 
thoroughly  imparted  to  any ;  and  we  had  rather  begin  with  you 
than  have  done  it  before — and  do  think  indeed  that  this  Transac- 
tion is  more  proper  for  a  verbal  communication  than  to  have  it  put 
into  writing.  I  doubt  he  whose  pen  is  most  gentle  in  England 
would,  in  recording  that,  have  been  tempted,  whether  he  would  oi 
no,  to  dip  it  deep  in  anger  and  wrath.  But  affairs  being  at  this  pos- 
ture ;  we  seeing  plainly,  even  in  some  critical  cas3S,  that  the  'Jause 
of  the  People  of  God  was  a  despised  thing; — truly  we  did  believe 
then  that  the  hands  of  other  men  '*  than  these"  must  be  the  hands 
to  be  used  for  the  work.  And  we  thought  then,  it  was  very  high 
time  to  look  about  us,  and  to  be  sensible  of  our  duty. 


442  APPENDIX. 

If,  I  say,  I  should  take  up  your  time  to  tell  you  what  instances 
we  have  to  satisfy  our  judgments  and  consciences,  That  these  are 
not  vain  imaginations,  nor  things  fictitious,  but  which  fell  within 
the  compass  of  our  own  certain  knowledge,  it  would  bring  me,  I 
say,  to  what  I  would  avoid,  to  rake  into  these  things  too  much. 
Only  this.  If  anybody  was  in  competition  for  any  place  of  real 
and  signal  trust,  "  if  any  really  public  interest  was  at  stake  in  that 
Parliament,"  how  hard  and  difficult  a  matter  was  it  to  get  anything 
carried  without  making  parties — without  practices  indeed  un- 
worthy of  a  Parliament!  When  things  must  be  carried  so  in  a 
Supreme  Authority,  indeed  I  think  it  is  not  as  it  ought  to  be,  to 
say  no  worse  !  Then  when  we  came  to  other  trials,  as  in  that 
case  of  Wales,  "  of  establishing  a  Preaching  Ministry  in  Wales," 
which,  I  must  confess  for  my  own  part,  I  set  myself  upon — if  I 
should  relate  what  discountenance  that  business  of  the  poor  Peo- 
ple of  God  there  had  (who  had  men  watching  over  them  like  so 
many  wolves,  ready  to  catch  the  lambs  so  soon  as  they  were 
brought  forth  into  the  w^orld) ;  how  signally  that  Business  was 
trodden  under  foot  ''  in  Parliament,"  to  the  discountenancing  of  the 
Honest  People,  and  the  countenancing  of  the  Malignant  Party,  of 
this  Commonwealth — !  I  need  but  say  it  was  so.  For  many  of 
you  know,  and  by  sad  experience  have  felt  it  to  be  so.  And 
somebody  I  hope  will,  at  leisure,  better  impart  to  you  the  state  of 
that  Business  '•  of  Wales ;"  which  really  to  myself  and  Officers, 
was  as  plain  a  trial  of  their  spirits,  "  the  Parliament's  spirits,"  as 
anything — it  being  known  to  many  of  us  that  God  had  kindled  a 
seed  there  indeed  hardly  to  be  paralleled  since  the  Primitive  Time. 

I  would  these  had  been  all  the  instances  we  had  !  Finding, 
"however,"  which  way  the  spirits  of  men  went,  finding  that  good 
was  never  intended  to  the  People  of  Goi — 1  mean  when  I  say  the 
People  of  God,  I  mean  the  large  comprehension  of  them,  under  the 
several  forms  of  Godliness  in  this  Nation  : — finding,  I  say,  that  all 
tenderness  was  forgotten  to  the  Good  People  (though  it  was  by 
their  hands  and  their  means,  under  the  blessing  of  God,  that  those 
sat  where  they  did) — we  thought  this  a  very  bad  requital !  I  will 
not  say,  they  were  come  to  an  utter  inability  of  working  Reforma- 
tion— though  I  might  say  so  in  regard  to  one  thing:  the  Re- 
formation of  the  Law,  so  much  groaned  under  in  the  posture  it 
now  is  in.  That  was  a  thing  we  had  many  good  words 
spoken  for;  but  we  know  that  many  months  together  were  not 
enough  for  the  settling  of  one  word,  "  Incumbrances — I  say,  find- 
ing that  this  was  the  spirit  and  complexion  of  men — although  these 
were  faults  for  which  no  man  should  lift  up  his  hand  against  the 
Superior  Magistrate ;  not  simply  for  these  faults  and  failings — yet 
when  we  saw  that  this  "  New  Representative  of  theirs"  was 
meant  tc  perpetuate  men  of  such  spirits ;  nay,  when  we  had  it  from 
their  own  mouths,  That  they  could  not  endure  to  hear  of  the  Dis- 


APPENDIX.  443 

solution  of  this  Parliament :  we  thought  this  an  high  breach  of 
trust.  If  they  had  been  a  Parliament  never  violence  was  upon, 
sitting  as  free  and  clear  as  any  in  former  ages,  it  was  thought,  this, 
to  be  a  breach  of  trust,  such  as  a  greater  could  not  be. 

And  that  we  might  not  be  in  doubt  about  these  matters :  having 
had  that  Conference  among  ourselves  which  I  gave  you  an  account 
of,  we  did  desire  one  more — and  indeed  it  was  the  night  before 
the  Dissolution ;  it  had  been  desired  two  or  three  nights  before : 
we  did  desire  that  we  might  speak  with  some  of  the  principal 
persons  of  the  House.  That  we  might  with  ingenuity  open  our 
hearts  to  them ;  that  we  might  either  be  convinced  of  the  certainty 
of  their  intentions  ;  or  else  that  they  would  be  pleased  to  hear  our 
expedients  to  prevent  these  inconveniences.  And  indeed  we  could 
not  attain  our  desire  till  the  night  before  the  Dissolution.  There 
is  a  touch  of  this  in  our  Declaration.  As  I  said  before,  at  that 
time  we  had  often  desired  it,  and  at  that  time  we  obtained  it : 
where  about  Twenty  of  them  were,  none  of  the  least  in  considera- 
tion for  their  interest  and  ability ;  with  whom  we  desired  some 
discourse  upon  these  things  and  had  it.  And  it  pleased  these 
Gentlemen,  who  are  here,  the  Officers  of  the  Army,  to  desire  me  to 
offer  their  sense  for  them,  which  I  did,  and  it  was  shortly  thus : 
We  told  them  "  the  reason  of  our  desire  to  wait  upon  them  now 
was,  that  we  might  know  from  them,  What  security  lay  in  their 
manner  of  proceeding,  so  hastened,  for  a  New  Representative ; 
wherein  they  had  made  a  few  qualifications,  such  as  they  were : 
and  How  the  whole  business  would,  "in  actual  practice,"  be  exe- 
cuted :  Of  which  we  had  as  yet  no  account ;  and  yet  we  had  our 
interest,  our  lives,  estates  and  families  therein  concerned :  and,  we 
thought  likewise,  the  Honest  People  had  interest  in  us :  '^  How  all 
this  was  to  be '?"  That  so,  if  it  did  seem  they  meant  to  appear  in 
such  honest  and  just  ways  as  might  be  security  to  the  Honest  In- 
terest, we  might  therein  acquiesce  :  or  else  that  they  would  hear 
what  we  had  to  offer."  Indeed,  when  this  desire  was  made,  the 
answer  was,  "That  nothing  would  do  good  for  this  Nation  but  the 
continuance  of  this  Parliament !"  We  wondered  we  should  have 
such  a  return.  We  said  little  to  that :  but  seeing  they  would  not 
give  us  satisfaction  that  their  ways  were  honorable  and  just,  we 
craved  their  leave  to  make  our  objections.  We  then  told  them, 
That  the  way  they  were  going  in  would  be  impracticable.  "  That*' 
we  could  not  tell  how  to  send  out  an  Act,  with  such  qualifications 
as  to  be  a  rule  for  electing  and  for  being  elected,  Until  we  first  knew 
who  the  persons  were  that  should  be  admitted  to  elect.  And 
above  all,  Whether  any  of  the  qualifications  reached  "  so  far  as  to 
include"  the  Presbyterian  Party.  And  we  were  bold  to  tell  them, 
That  none  of  that  judgment  who  had  deserted  this  Cause  and  In- 
terest should  have  any  power  therein.  We  did  think  we  should 
]  rofess  it,  That  we  had  as  good  deliver  up  our  Cause  into  the 


444  APPENDIX. 

hands  of  any  as  into  the  hands  of  those  who  had  deserted  us,  or 
who  were  as  neuters  !  For  it's  one  thing  to  love  a  brother,  to  bear 
with  and  love  a  person  of  diiFerent  judgment  in  matters  of  religion  ; 
and  another  thing  to  have  anybody  so  far  set  in  the  saddle  on  that 
account,  as  to  have  all  the  rest  of  his  brethren  at  mercy. 

Truly,  Gentlemen,  having  this  discourse  concerning  the  imprac- 
ticableness  of  the  thing,  the  bringiiig-in  of  neuters,  and  such  as  had 
deserted  this  Cause,  whom  we  very  well  knew ;  objecting  like- 
wise how  dangerous  it  would  be  by  drawing  concourses  of  people 
in  the  several  Counties  (every  person  that  was  within  the  qualifi- 
cation or  without) ;  and  how  it  did  fall  obvious  to  us  that  the 
power  would  come  into  the  hands  of  men  who  had  very  little 
affection  to  this  Cause :  the  answer  again  was  made,  and  that  by 
very  eminent  persons,  "  That  nothing  v/ould  save  the  Nation  but 
the  continuaace  of  this  Parliament."  This  being  so,  we  humbly 
proposed — since  neither  our  counsels,  our  objections  to  their  way 
of  proceeding,  nor  their  answers  to  justify  that,  did  give  us  satis- 
faction ;  jior  did  we  think  they  ever  intended  to  give  us  any, 
which  indeed  some  of  them  have  since  declared  •'  to  be  the  fact" — 
we  proposed  to  them,  I  sa}',  oitr  expedient;  which  was  indeed 
this:  That  the  Government  of  the  Nation  being  in  such  a  condition 
as  we  saw,  and  things  '■  being"  under  so  much  ill  sense  abroad, 
and  likely  to  end  in  confusion  "if  we  so  proceeded" — we  desired 
they  would  devolve  the  trust  over  to  some  Well-affected  Men, 
such  as  had  an  interest  in  the  Nation,  and  were  known  to  be  of 
good  affection  to  the  Commonwealth.  Which,  we  told  them,  was 
no  new  thing  when  this  land  was  under  the  like  hurleybuvlies. 
And  we  had  been  laboring  to  get  precedents  "  out  of  His- 
tory" to  convince  them  of  it :  and  it  was  confessed  by  them  it  had 
been  no  new  thing.  This  expedient  we  offered  out  of  the  deep 
sense  we  had  of  the  Cause  of  Christ ;  and  were  answered  so  as  I 
told  you,  That  nothing  would  save  this  Nation  but  the  continu- 
ance of  that  Parliament.  '•  The  continuance :"  they  would  not 
"be  brought  to"  to  say  \\\q perpetuating  of  it,  at  this  time  ;  yet  we 
found  their  endeavors  did  directly  tend  that  way ;  they  gave  us 
this  answer,  "  That  the  thing  we  offered  was  of  a  very  high  nature 
and  of  tender  consideration :  How  would  money  be  raised  I" — and 
made  some  other  objections.  We  told  them  '•  how  ;"  and  that  we 
here  offered  an  expedient  five  times  better  than  that  "of  theirs," 
for  which  no  reason  was  given,  nor  we  thought  could  be  given : 
and  desired  them  that  they  would  lay  things  seriously  to  heart ! 
They  told  us,  They  would  take  time  for  the  considerations  of  these 
things  till  to-morrow;  they  vrould  sleep  upon  them,  and  consult 
some  friends :  "  some  friends" — though,  as  I  said,  there  were 
about  Twenty-three  "  of  them  here,"  and  not  above  Fifty-three  in 
.  the  House.  And  at  parting,  two  or  three  of  the  chief  of  them,  one 
of  the  chief,  and  two  or  three  more,  did  tell  us.  That  thev  ^-  ■  ' ' 


APPENDIX.  445 

endeavor  to  suspend  farther  proceedings  about  their  Bill  for  a  New 
Representative  until  they  had  another  conference  with  us.  And 
upon  this  we  had  great  satisfaction  ;  and  had  hope,  if  our  expe- 
dient could  receive  a  loving  debate,  that  the  next  day  we  should 
have  some  such  issue  thereof  as  would  give  satisfaction  to  all. 
And  herewith  they  went  away,  "it"  being  late  at  night. 

The  next  morning,  wc  considering  how  to  order  what  we  had 
farther  to  ofi'er  to  them  in  the  evening,  word  was  brought  us  that 
the  House  was  proceeding  with  all  speed  upon  the  New  Repre- 
sentative !  We  could  not  believe  it,  that  such  persons  would  be  so 
unworthy  ;  we  remained  there  till  a  second  and  a  third  messenger 
came,  with  tidings,  That  the  House  was  really  upon  that  business, 
and  had  brought  it  near  to  the  issue — and  with  that  height  as  was 
never  before  exercised:  leaving  out  all  things  relating  to  the  due 
exercise  of  the  qualifications  (which  had  appeared  all  along  "  in  it 
till  now"') :  and  "meaning,"  as  we  heard,  to  pass  it  only  on  paper, 
without  engrossing,  for  the  quicker  despatch  of  it. — Thus,  as  we 
apprehend,  would  the  Liberties  of  the  Nation  have  been  thrown 
away  into  the  hands  of  those  who  had  never  fought  for  it.  And 
upon  this  we  thought  it  our  duty  not  to  suffer  it.  And  upon  this 
the  House  was  dissolved,  even  when  the  Speaker  was  going  to  put 
the  last  question. 

I  have  too  much  troubled  you  with  this:  but  we  have  made  this 
relation  that  you  might  know  that  what  hath  been  done  in  the  Dis- 
solution of  the  Parhament  was  as  necessary  to  be  done  as  the 
preservation  of  this  Cause.  And  the  necessity  which  led  us  to  do 
that,  hath  brought  us  to  this  "  present"  issue,  Of  exercising  an 
extraordinary  way  and  course  to  draw  You  together  '•  here  ;"  upon 
this  account,  that  you  are  men  who  know  the  Lord,  and  have  made 
observations  of  His  marvellous  Dispensations;  and  maybe  trusted, 
as  far  as  men  may  be  trusted,  with  this  Cause. 

It  remains  now  for  me  to  acquaint  you  "a  little"  farther  with 
what  relates  to  your  taking  upon  you  this  great  Business.  "But 
indeed"  that  is  contained  in  the  Paper  here  in  my  hand,  which 
will  be  offered  presently  to  you  to  read.  But  having  done  that 
we  have  done  upon  such  ground  of  necessity  as  we  have  "  now" 
declared,  which  was  not  a  feigned  necessity  but  a  real— "it  did 
behoove  us,"  to  the  end  we  might  manifest  to  the  world  the  single- 
ness of  our  hearts  and  our  integrity  who  did  these  things,  Not  to 
grasp  at  the  power  ourselves,  or  keep  it  in  military  hands,  no  not 
for  a  day  :  but,  as  far  as  God  enabled  us  with  strength  and  ability, 
to  put  it  into  the  hands  of  Proper  Persons  that  might  be  called 
from  the  several  parts  of  the  Nation.  This  necessity;  and  I  hope 
we  may  say  for  ourselves,  this  integrity  of  concluding  to  divest  the 
Sword  of  all  power  in  the  Civil  Administration— hath  been  that 
that  hath  moved  us  to  put  You  to  this  trouble  •'  of  coming  hither  •" 


446  APPENDIX. 

and  having  done  that,  truly  we  think  we  cannot,  with  the  dis- 
charge of  our  own  consciences,  but  offer  somewhat  to  you  on  the 
devolving  of  the  burden  on  our  shoulders.     It  hath  been  the  prac 
tice  of  others  who  have,  voluntarily  and  out  of  a  sense  of  duty 
divested  themselves,   and    devolved   the   Government    into   nev 
hands ;  I  say,  it  hath  been  the  practice  of  those  that  have  done  so 
it  hath  been  practiced,   and  is  very  consonant  to  reason,   To  lay 
"down,"  together  with  their  Authority,  some  Charge  "  how  to 
employ  it"  (as  we  hope  we  have  done),  and  to  press  the  duty  "of 
employing  it  well :"  concerning  which  we  have  a  word  or  two  to 
oSer  you. 


Princeton  Theological  Semmary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  01044  5908 


X 


%*i* 


till  J1 


1     irr 


